Harry Potter and the Stars of Silver
by California smells funny
Summary: Dumbledore rewrites history, Harry falls for someone, and a club opens in Hogsmeade. Partay... but for how long? HPDM
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  
Author's Note: Ok, if you're reading this, my summary is obviously not as bad as I thought – I tried ;-) anyway, this is serious JKR imitation material. Review and tell me whether u like it please! It will get stupid later I promise.  
  
As the dawn broke over Privet Drive, Harry Potter was woken by a tapping on the window. He yawned and got up, putting on his glasses as he stood. He was still adjusting to these glasses, after wearing his old round ones for several years. He couldn't wait to see how people reacted to his new look; he had to stop himself looking in the mirror at every opportunity to admire the new, more rectangular frames.  
  
Stretching, he walked the few paces to the window and opened it. In flew an owl. This did not surprise Harry at all; after all, owls had been turning up in his room for over five years now.  
  
The owl hooted impatiently and stuck its leg out. Looking at it, he recognised it as a Hogwarts owl. His stomach turned to water. He stared at the envelope he had just untied from its leg – it bore the Hogwarts crest. He knew what this was. Obviously, it contained the usual list of what he would require for the new term, but... it probably had his OWL results in there too. He continued to stare at the envelope for several minutes, not noticing as the owl departed. He was eventually woken from his reverie by a sharp pain in his left hand, which was resting on the windowsill. He looked down to see a more familiar owl, which seemed to have just pecked him.  
  
"Pig!" Harry exclaimed happily, as he recognised the tiny creature. He eagerly detached the letter and parcel from its leg. He did a brief double- take at the fact there were two letters, and the parcel seemed to contain two objects, before realising that one would be from Ron Weasley, the owner of the twittering featherball, and the other from Hermione Granger. Hermione, having Muggle parents, did not own an owl.  
  
Still grinning, Harry opened the first letter.  
  
Dear Harry,  
Happy birthday! I didn't know how I was going to contact you (I assume your aunt and uncle still disapprove of you receiving Muggle post as much as owls), but then Pig turned up. Ron sent him – good idea, I suppose it's less conspicuous for one owl to turn up in Privet Drive than two.  
  
Harry's smile widened. Typical Hermione-style thinking.  
  
Anyway, have you had your OWL results yet? I'm so nervous about mine, I mean, that question on the Charms paper really threw me-  
  
Harry recognised the start of one of Hermione's characteristic bouts of post-exam pessimism, and almost skimmed the next paragraph. Then he realised that the longer he took to read it, the more he would delay looking at the Hogwarts letter.  
  
-but I think I did OK on Arithmancy, that was the one I was really worried about. So, how are you? I bet you're looking forward to going back to school. If I were you, I'd want to be busy. I hope you're not dwelling on what happened – it wasn't your fault, Harry! Remember that. Good luck with the OWL results, and happy birthday! I hope you like your present, Love Hermione.  
  
Harry's grin slipped from his face. Why did she have to bring that up? He had thought last summer was bad, after Cedric died, but this summer had been much worse. He didn't know whether he should be grieving for Sirius, or blaming himself for his death. Every time he thought about it, he felt sick. And that wasn't the only thing. The OWLs had been preying on his mind too, but there was yet another problem. A certain person at school had been in and out of his thoughts since the end of the school term. Someone he missed seeing every day. He regretted their fights, and wished he had told the person how he felt.  
  
He forced himself to turn his back on these miserable thoughts. With difficulty, he turned his concentration to the other letter.  
  
Dear Harry,  
I hope you're holding up OK. If you're not OK, you would write and say, wouldn't you?  
  
Sorry mate, Mum made me put that in. Seriously though, hope you're all right. Also, I hope Pig made it to you. I mean, he's not used to carrying this much weight. Write back if he does make it, would you?  
  
I'm guessing you might have got the exam results by now, I'm not sure how long Pig'll take to reach you. So good luck, and remember what Fred and George always say: 'Teachers are possibly the least qualified people to detect intelligence'.  
  
Oh yeah, happy birthday! Your present's in the package, if Pig hasn't dropped it. Everyone sends best wishes, Ron. P.S. Don't want to be a sponger, but could you feed Pig before you send him back?  
  
The smile did not resurface on Harry's face, but he refused to let himself dwell on what was bothering him. If Sirius was still alive, I'd have a letter from him too. Maybe I'd even be with him right now... Harry shook himself. He picked up the brown parcel Pigwidgeon had brought, and started to open it with a feeling of anticipation. He was halfway through opening it when a third owl flew in. Putting the parcel aside, he took the letter and package from the owl. He looked at the envelope, correctly guessing the untidy scrawl to be Hagrid's. On realising this, he glanced at the package with trepidation – Hagrid had been known to send somewhat unorthodox presents before. Harry half expected the parcel to quiver, or growl.  
  
He turned back to the first present and finished removing the paper. First, he caught sight of a large volume bound in red leather. Embossed on the cover was 'Defensive Theories and Practices Through the Ages by Estelbert Rutherford'. This was clearly from Hermione; Harry did not need to read the attached note to tell that. He read it anyway.  
  
Thought this might come in useful, especially if we have to start the DA again. Love Hermione.  
  
A fleeting smile passed over his face as he read this. He had expected a book, but this one actually looked quite useful. He put it to the side and focused his attention on Ron's present. It appeared to be a scarf, but he guessed there would be more to it than that. As he perused the accompanying note, he was proved right.  
  
This is not exactly a normal scarf Harry, so I hope you read this first. You have to say 'necesse est tu ad meum fidelite esse', then the scarf will recognise you as its master. Then you can set it on other people using this spell: 'malum agere iubet dominus tuus, Harry Potter'. Let's just say it won't do the person any good, OK? Hope you like it, from Ron.  
  
Harry stared apprehensively at the scarf for a few moments. It was certainly an unusual present, and having the scarf as emergency backup made him feel a little better about the prospect of opening Hagrid's gift. He cleared his throat, then, looking resolutely at the scarf, began to recite the first Latin incantation. He stopped himself partway through, unsure whether this classified as underage magic or not. This led him to wonder he was still underage or not. He stared meditatively at the scarf, and noticed another note nestling inside a fold. He reached out tentatively and snatched the paper.  
  
By the way Harry, you can probably get away with using the incantation. I asked Dad, and he said that you're no longer underage on the condition that you've passed at least three OWLs. Guess you'd better wait till you've checked the results, mate.  
  
This made Harry feel ill again. He carefully avoided touching the scarf as he picked up and opened the letter from Hagrid. It took him a few minutes to decipher his handwriting, but eventually he got there.  
  
Dear Harry,  
Happy birthday! Hope you're well. Bet you're looking forward to being back at school, eh Harry? Well, don't worry, your present isn't dangerous-  
  
This did not make Harry feel better. Hagrid's idea of 'not dangerous' was quite different to everyone else's.  
  
-but I hope you'll like it. See you soon, Hagrid p.s. Grawpy sends his love.  
  
Harry gave a snort of laughter, as he wondered whether Hagrid's half brother had actually reached that degree of communication yet. After all, the giant didn't seem to have picked up much English before except things along the lines of 'Hermy, where Hagger?'.  
  
Harry sighed. Hagrid's attempts at domesticating creatures no one else would approach were a mystery to him, and to his friends. And, he added as an afterthought, to the Ministry of Magic. Good thing Dumbledore was back as Headmaster of Hogwarts, or Hagrid wouldn't have had a chance of keeping his job. Good thing Dumbledore was back, anyway.  
  
He abandoned his thoughts and began the more risky task of opening the parcel. It wasn't really as bad as expected in the end; in fact it was rather a useful present. At first it appeared to just be a cross between a small box and a kazoo, but the small parchment instruction booklet proclaimed it to be an animal translator. If you talked into the mouthpiece, the booklet said, the sound emerging from the other end would be a translation of your words, understandable to any nearby magical animals.  
  
I wonder if it covers animals like Crabbe and Goyle, Harry thought, with a laugh. But his laugh was cut short when he realised that this was the moment. He'd finished with the other post. He would have to read the school letter now. His stomach flipped over as he pictured a sheet of parchment with subjects listed on the left and a neat column of 'T's on the right. Something inside his mind assured him he would not have done that badly, but still...  
  
He didn't want to open the envelope, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to. Filled with dread, he began to pull it open. He read the covering letter nervously, but it gave nothing away.  
  
Dear Mr Potter,  
We would like to remind you that the new term will commence on September the First. As a student who has opted to continue into Sixth Year, your list of subjects is enclosed, as are the results of your OWLs. As you may already know, the passing of at least three OWLs permits you to use magic outside of school. However, stringent regulations still apply when in the company of Muggles.  
  
The Hogwarts Express will depart on September the First, at 11am, from King's Cross Station, Platform 9 and ¾. We hope to see you then.  
  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
Nerves had now seized Harry by the throat. His hands almost shook as he removed from the envelope the piece of parchment that would seal his fate.  
  
Please let me have passed at least three, he thought desperately. At least one... He forced his eyes to open and to look at the parchment.  
  
It took him a moment to make sense of the format of the sheet. At last he understood.  
  
Astronomy: Acceptable: PASS Care of Magical Creatures: Exceeds expectations: PASS Charms: Exceeds expectations: PASS Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding: PASS Divination: Poor: FAIL Herbology: Exceeds expectations: PASS History of Magic: Acceptable: PASS Potions: Outstanding: PASS Transfiguration: Exceeds expectations: PASS  
  
Having worked out the sheet, Harry stared in amazement. He was tempted to dance around the room, yelling at the top of his voice. He managed to suppress this urge, and instead laughed out loud, thinking of what Snape's face would look like when he found out that he, Harry, would be in the NEWT Potions class. How he had got an 'O', he had no idea whatsoever, except that a weekend's solid revision and the absence of Snape had done his potion making skills a lot of good.  
  
He continued to laugh, mainly through relief, for several minutes. By the time he stopped, the sun had fully risen. Looking back on the morning so far, Harry began to feel that this was an excellent birthday after all. Feeling much more cheerful, he read the final sheet of parchment in the envelope.  
  
Dear Mr Potter,  
Your subjects for Sixth Year, and for NEWT examinations, will be determined in an interview with your Head of House on the first day of the new school term. Any subjects in which a student has not obtained a pass grade will not be available to said student. Certain subjects will demand a certain grade or higher for continuation to NEWT level.  
  
As your subjects will not be determined until term has begun, an excursion to the village of Hogsmeade will take place on the first weekend of term. Students who have presented signed permission forms at some juncture since the beginning of the Third Year will be able to buy their equipment while travelling to, and around, Hogsmeade in the usual way. Those who have not presented permission forms will attend this trip under supervision, and will remain in the village only as long as is necessary to purchase their equipment. For this reason, students must have with them sufficient money for what they will require.  
  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
Harry finished reading and began to tidy the pile of parchment in front of him. On reading the part about permission forms, he had winced; Sirius had signed his at the start of Third Year. Again, he refused to dwell on this miserable thought.

So guys, there it is. Please review and there will be more soon- my betas are already demanding chapter 2


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Author's Note: OK, I totally forgot to put a disclaimer on Chapter 1 so here it is now. All the characters, settings etc belong to JK Rowling. The plot is mine. So, hope you liked Chapter 1. If not, please tell. By the way, there will be slash later (unlikely as that may seem at the mo) so if you have a moral objection to that, stop reading this fic now.  
  
Harry woke on September the first with mixed feelings. He was happy, of course, to be going back to Hogwarts, but he knew from what Dumbledore had told him in June that he was much safer here in Little Whinging.  
  
All things considered, the summer had not been too bad. After his confrontation with Mad-Eye Moody at the end of term, even Uncle Vernon had been relatively subdued. Harry's regular correspondence with the members of the Order had helped to keep him sane too. He had noticed that Lupin sounded a little strange, but attributed it to tiredness.  
  
A new resolution had struck Harry (being back with the Dursleys gave him plenty of time to think). He knew that to avoid dying himself, he would have to kill Voldemort. Merlin knew how he was going to do that. In the face of such a hopeless situation, Harry had decided that he might as well try to carry on with life anyway.  
  
He smiled and muttered a quick spell so that his trunk became light as a feather. He carried it downstairs to the front door. In their newly induced fear, the Dursleys had agreed to take him to the station.  
  
"Harry!" On arrival on Platform 9 ¾, Harry had almost been knocked over as Hermione dashed over to him and grabbed him in such a tight hug that she cut off his air supply.  
  
"Erm, Hermione, I don't think Harry can breathe," Ron intervened, walking over at a more calm pace.  
  
Blushing slightly, Hermione released Harry, who took a deep breath and rubbed his neck. "Thanks," he managed to say to Ron.  
  
Ron shrugged. "Well, can't have you choking before term's even started, can we?"  
  
Harry grinned. "It's great to see you guys again."  
  
"Same here." The other two replied in unison.  
  
As the trio stood grinning at each other, a whistle blew. Harry quickly lifted his trunk, while Ron took Hedwig's cage. Together, they carried his luggage onto the train and stowed it in the compartment Ron and Hermione had already saved. He stepped back onto the platform briefly.  
  
"Well, I'll see you next summer then," he said to the Dursleys, who all looked terrified at being surrounded by so many witches and wizards, even if half of them weren't old enough to use magic outside Hogwarts yet.  
  
Without waiting for a reply, Harry stepped back on the train, to find that Neville and Ginny had joined their compartment. He greeted them both and sat down, feeling both happy and apprehensive. He couldn't wait to see the person who had spent so much of the summer holiday preying on his mind. He wondered if he would see the person on the train. Probably he would.  
  
The train set off a few minutes later. Harry looked suspiciously at Ron and Hermione. "Don't you two have prefect duties to attend to?"  
  
Ron chuckled. "Nope. They leave it to the Fifth Year prefects to do duties on the train. Let them enjoy their first taste of power."  
  
Harry grinned back.  
  
"So Harry, you never said in your letters what you got in your OWLs!" Hermione reminded him. "Tell us!"  
  
Without a word, Harry removed the parchment from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to her. As she read it, her eyes widened. "Harry, that's brilliant! An 'O' in Potions! How did you-"  
  
"Absence of Snape." Harry said simply. "How did the rest of you do?"  
  
"All passes." Hermione replied. "Well actually, all 'O's except Astronomy, that was an 'E', but then the practical exam did get... interrupted."  
  
Harry nodded. Hermione's marks did not differ from what he had expected. "Ron, how about you?"  
  
"Same as you mate, except I got 'E' on Potions. Should've revised harder." But his expression was not resentful.  
  
"I got 'O' on Herbology!" Neville told them. "I got 'A' in most stuff, but... I got an 'E' in Transfiguration and Potions!" He looked overjoyed about this. All of the others in the compartment spent several minutes congratulating each other. Ginny joined in with this.  
  
"So," she said when the congratulations had died down, "OWLs aren't all that bad then?"  
  
It was about halfway through the journey when the Gryffindors received a guest. "You all look happy. I suppose Longbottom managed to pass at least one OWL then?" A lazy drawl from the doorway made Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny all look up. Of course, the drawl belonged to a blond Slytherin who they had all expected to appear at some point.  
  
"Malfoy! What a pleasant surprise!" Harry said sarcastically. "You should have warned us you were coming, we could have baked something..." There was perhaps not as much sarcasm in his voice as they expected, because the other Gryffindors all gave him funny looks.  
  
When Harry realised this, he quickly added, "...With cyanide in it."  
  
"Clever, Potter," Malfoy said, equally dryly. "Have you been taking lessons to improve your sparkling wit?"  
  
"Eat dung," Harry replied.  
  
"Hardly complimentary, considering what you've done to me lately, Potter," Malfoy drawled. "I think you're in my debt rather..."  
  
Ron interrupted the exchange of retorts. "What the hell do you mean, Malfoy? Think about what you've done to us, you ba-"  
  
"Ron," Hermione said warningly. Ron reluctantly shut up.  
  
Malfoy laughed. "Whipped, Weasley. Just like your lousy father, but then I suppose your mother's enough to scare anyone into silence."  
  
This time it took all four of them to restrain Ron from jinxing Malfoy into oblivion.  
  
"Not like your father then," Ginny retorted, breaking her silence. "He couldn't have scared a snail."  
  
"You shut up about my father!" Malfoy snapped. "I won't forget what you did to him you know," He told Harry. Then he left, trailing Crabbe and Goyle, who as usual had not spoken at all.  
  
"That total... slug," Ron raged. "I'll teach him to say stuff like that, I'll teach him..."  
  
"Yes, Ron, we know," Hermione said soothingly. "He'll get his in the end."  
  
"Too right he will," Harry agreed, lost in his own thoughts.  
  
The five of them whiled away the rest of the journey silently considering ways of exacting revenge on the platinum-haired Slytherin.  
  
Harry felt at ease. This was what life at Hogwarts was all about. This was what he planned to make the most of.  
  
Author's Note: I deliberately made this chapter a bit shorter. Review please! And I promise it gets more interesting next chapter. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Author's Note: Harry Potter and co. still belong to JK Rowling. The plot still belongs to me.

_I hope this chapter's a bit more interesting. My betas say it's OK so far, but I still think it's lacking something..._

__

"Harry? Harry!" On the first day of lessons, Harry was woken by Ron. "Wake up!"

"What, I'm awake, I'm awake..." Harry mumbled, rolling over and reaching for his glasses. "What is it?"

"It's fifteen minutes to breakfast, mate, you might want to get up about now," Ron explained. "I think the others have already gone..."

Harry forced himself to get up. "So, what's happening today? I mean, we can't have lessons until we've done that consultation thing, can we?"

Ron shrugged, as Harry began to get dressed. "I guess not. D'you know what subjects you want to do?"

"Think so," Harry replied. "Wonder what Hermione'll be like, she'll want to take everything under the sun, it'll probably take McGonagall hours to sort her out..."

They both laughed, and headed down the staircase to the common room, where they found Hermione and started the walk down to the Great Hall.

It turned out that the whole day was free of lessons, while students spoke to their Heads of Houses about their subjects. The actual interviews did not take all day, but timetables could not be drawn up until afterwards, and anyway, it transpired that Dumbledore had decided through choice to give the Sixth Years the rest of the day off. None of the students questioned this; they knew better than to look a gift-horse in the mouth.

The interviews, which took place in the Great Hall, were to commence directly after breakfast, when the other years had gone off to lessons with the remaining teachers. The interviews were not supposed to take long, but it still felt to Harry like an age before, at last, Parvati Patil left and it was his turn. He approached the table apprehensively.

"Take a seat, Potter," Professor McGonagall said briskly, and he did so. As she saw the look of mild nervousness on his face, her own expression softened slightly. "How are you feeling?"

Harry knew she was referring to the events of that June. In response, he simply said, "Oh, not bad, Professor..."

"So," Professor McGonagall avoided the preamble and launched straight into the matter in hand, "what subjects were you thinking of taking?"

"Well," Harry began, "I need Potions, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, if I want to be an Auror. I was planning on continuing Herbology, because it might help with Potions..."

"And what else? You need a sixth subject."

"I, um, I'm not quite sure. Perhaps History of Magic? I've never really got on with Astronomy, and I failed Divination..."

"I wonder perhaps, if you would take Divination even if you had passed the OWL," McGonagall remarked, a hint of a smile appearing on her face. She cleared her throat. "Well Potter, those choices seem quite in order. You should receive your timetable at breakfast tomorrow, and the trip to Hogsmeade for books and such will be this weekend. You may go."

Harry exited with a vague feeling of relief. Another thing over and done with. Now all he had to do was wait for Ron to be interviewed, and then the rest of the day was theirs to do as they pleased.

"So, what are you two taking?" Hermione asked as the trio left the Great Hall and headed for the lake.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology," Harry ticked them off on his fingers, "and History of Magic."

"Ugh," Ron pulled a face. "What are you taking History of Magic for?"

"Well, what else would I do?" Harry asked. "We have to take six, and anyway, if I need at least five NEWTs to be an Auror, I need a backup. How about you?"

"Same here, except I'm picking up Muggle Studies," Ron answered. "Instead of Potions. No way Snape'd let in someone who got an 'E'. Anyway, glad to be shot of the stupid git."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, her eyebrows disappearing into her bushy hair. "You know when you say something like that, he'll probably be about three paces behind you!"

"Whatever," Ron said in response. "What subjects are you taking?"

"Same as Harry, except I'm taking Arithmancy instead of History of Magic."

Ron and Harry looked at each other in panic.

"Guess we'll have to take our own notes this year, mate," Ron whispered to Harry, who grimaced. This piece of news had brought home just how much they relied on Hermione in Professor Binns's lessons.

The three of them spent the afternoon lazing by the lake, idly watching the water ripple as the giant squid swam below the surface. They hardly noticed when lessons finished and other students began filtering out to join the Sixth Years. Harry did notice, however, when Cho Chang came over to say hello.

"Um, hi," She said shyly. "Did you have a good summer?"

"It was OK," Harry shrugged. He was a little colder towards her than he had been last year, not least due to his thoughts over the summer.

Cho shrewdly decided to leave at this point, and shortly after, all of the students began heading back to the Great Hall for dinner. Most of them were deliberately early, as the seat of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had been empty the previous night. Everyone was eager to find out who had been stupid enough to take over the post this year. It was a toss-up as to which of the previous teachers had had the roughest deal out of possession / death, complete memory loss, getting the sack for being a werewolf, being locked in a trunk for the best part of a year, or being widely hated then attacked by a poltergeist with a walking stick and a sock full of chalk.

No more than a minute after seating themselves at Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron and Hermione got the shock of their lives.

"Hang on, isn't that..." Harry trailed off as he stared at the staff table in amazement.

"It is!" Hermione squeaked, equally surprised.

The person seated in the DADA teacher's seat was thinner, greyer and more haggard looking than when they had seen him last, but it was still, unmistakably, Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: OK, this note is halfway between being utterly pointless and being a demonstration of my terrible sense of humour. Today's top typing errors are:

..._they knew better than to look a gift-gorse in the mouth_

..._Defence Against the Dark Ages_

_These are so not funny, I know, but I just had to share them._

_I'm done with formalities now, so Chapter 4 should be more interesting. And by the way, the way these chapters are getting shorter is not done to take the mick out of the way the books are doing the opposite. Therefore, you can hopefully believe me when I say that Chapter 4 will not follow this pattern (that's what they said before Order of the Phoenix)._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: Well here it is. Frankly it's a miracle if this chapter makes it onto the site as I've been having some rather large technical issues. Anyway, here goes.

__

The trio remained sitting at the Gryffindor table until they saw Lupin stand as if to leave. They immediately gathered their bags, and as he made his exit from the Great Hall, they pounced.

"Professor Lupin... what are you doing back?" Harry asked directly.

Lupin gave a tiny smile. "They couldn't find anyone else who wanted the job, and Dumbledore vouched for me... The parents won't like it, but I suppose I should be used to that by now."

"Well we're glad you're back, Professor," Hermione said encouragingly.

Lupin gave a slightly stronger smile. "Thank you, Hermione. Will I be seeing you three in my classes this year?"

They all nodded emphatically. Despite the fact he happened to be a werewolf, they all had the greatest respect for Lupin, and Defence Against the Dark Arts classes seemed a much better prospect with him teaching them.

The next morning, Harry woke feeling very tired, which was not a good omen for the first day of lessons. He had been awake most of the night. Something was bothering him, and he knew exactly what it was. The special someone from his thoughts was on his mind more than ever, and that wasn't all. What was Lupin doing back? Could the Order afford to have another member away from Grimmauld Place? He knew that having a member at Hogwarts could in fact be of use to the Order, but then they already had Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape... not that Harry could be persuaded to see Snape as an asset to the Order. Or to anything, in fact.

With a grimace, Harry got up and began to put on his robes. He shook Ron awake, pointed out the time and went into the bathroom.

A/N: This bathroom is the one at the end of the dormitory that JKR never mentioned. I feel it should get a mention, I mean, do witches and wizards not need bathrooms or something, 'cos according to books 1-5, there don't seem to be any in Gryffindor tower.

Breakfast was quite a strange event for Harry that Tuesday. As he sat eating his bacon and eggs and sipping his pumpkin juice, he could feel a pair of eyes watching him. By looking around he managed to ascertain that it wasn't any of the usual suspects. It wasn't Snape, who seemed to watch Harry sometimes just to freak him out for the sheer hell of it. It wasn't Colin Creevey who, despite being a Fifth Year, could still be spotted occasionally staring at Harry in mute admiration. It wasn't Cho, who had evidently decided if he was going to be stand-offish, she'd do likewise. Eventually, Harry gave up on trying to work out who the culprit was, and went back to his breakfast.

Shortly after he did this, Professor McGonagall walked past, handing them their new timetables as she went.

"So today we've got double Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions and double History of Magic," Harry read off his sheet.

"That means I've got my first Muggle Studies class today," Ron added through a mouthful of fried egg.

"And I've got Arithmancy this afternoon," Hermione finished. She looked at Harry. "At least the first lesson with Snape's only a single!"

Harry smiled weakly. This did not come as a relief to him, as any time spent with Snape sounded to him like a death sentence. After the events of his last Occlumency lesson last term, when he had looked into Snape's worst memory – an experience he never wished to repeat, he knew that the Potions master hated him more than ever. Thanks to what he had seen in the Pensieve, he had spent endless minutes of his summer trying to rebuild his shattered respect for his father and his godfather.

Potions turned out to be a black spot in what was otherwise quite a good day.

"The next two years," Professor McGonagall had begun at the start of her lesson, "will not be like last year. Last year, you all seemed to realise only at the last minute just how much work you needed to do to be ready for your OWLs. For your NEWTs, however, you will be unable to rely on these last minute cramming sessions. I expect you all to work to a consistently high standard in your sixth and seventh years at this school, particularly those of you who have... high aspirations for the future." She glanced at Harry as she said this, and he made a silent vow to work as hard as he could for his NEWTs.

In Herbology, however, there was no such speech. The Sixth Years were plunged straight into practical work, having been directed into the most advanced greenhouse yet. Professor Sprout did not waste too much time talking to the class.

"Right chaps," she said, rubbing her hands together, "this is the most dangerous greenhouse you have worked in, so there are two things you must do in all lessons. The first is to wear your gloves – Weasley, are you listening?"

Ron, who had been staring at a large plant somewhat resembling a giant Venus flytrap, flushed deep red and turned his attention back to Professor Sprout, who continued.

"So, always wear your gloves. If you do not have gloves at the moment, you will be observing your fellow students in my lessons this week. You will all be doing practical work as of Monday, by which time you should have purchased a new pair of gloves in Hogsmeade. Second instruction is to always follow my instructions. Some of these plants we are going to look at are... not very witch-or-wizard friendly. Understood? Right, off we go then!"

The remainder of the lesson was spent learning how to remove the spines from a Romanian Whistling Bush. The spines were, Professor Sprout explained, used in various medicines. She ended the class by recommending to Neville a particularly good book on the topic. Neville, of course, ended up practically bouncing out of the greenhouse, delighted with this small act of recognition of his skills in his best subject.

Potions, on the other hand, was a rather unpleasant experience for all concerned. Snape was, if such a thing was possible, even more venomous than usual. Even Draco Malfoy, normally his favourite student, was told off for not paying attention. Snape did not, of course, go so far as to take points away from Slytherin for this, but all of the students were astounded at this display of rather un-Snape-like behaviour. After Snape had finished expressing his utter amazement at how some of them scored highly enough in the OWL to get into the class anyway, the lesson was almost over. When the bell rang, the students surged out of the dungeon as fast as they possibly could.

As he left the room, sandwiched in the middle of the crowd, Harry caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy's face. He had seen that look of anger too often for it to surprise him, but the look of resentment – and was that embarrassment? – did surprise him a little. Usually Malfoy left Snape's classes with a malicious smile, often having earned several points for Slytherin, so this expression was not the kind Harry would have expected. He felt almost sorry for Malfoy, as he knew he had not actually done anything to deserve Snape's wrath, and this feeling of sympathy shocked him more than anything else.

Harry spent most of lunchtime trying to analyse possible reasons why he had felt sorry for Malfoy. Unfortunately, every way he turned, he drew a blank. This lack of clarity left him frustrated and with just the right stress level to stay awake and reasonably attentive in Binns's class that afternoon. He even managed to take notes. This in itself was impressive, as Binns managed to make the subject as boring as ever. The result was that Harry left at the end of the lesson feeling much calmer than when he had gone in.

"Harry mate," Ron began delicately as they walked back to Gryffindor tower, "are you feeling OK?"

Harry shot him a quizzical look.

"You were taking notes in Binns's class!" Ron explained. "I don't want you turning into Hermione, OK?"

Harry grinned. "Not a chance!"

Dinner that evening was somewhat like breakfast. Again, Harry had the distinct impression that someone was watching him. Again, he glanced around at Snape, Colin and Cho. Then, suddenly, some instinct made him look over to the Slytherin table. He looked just in time to see Draco Malfoy quickly turn away.

His expression astonished, Harry took a deep draught of pumpkin juice as he tried to process this information. Draco Malfoy had been looking at him – no, staring at him. And if he wasn't mistaken, Draco Malfoy had been staring at him at breakfast too. Now this he couldn't understand.

_Author's Note: Well, I kept my promise – it's longer than Chapter 3! Hope you like it, please please review. The next chapter's going to be shorter, I think, just as a bridge to when things get more bizarre/interesting. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: This chapter isn't going to be great, like I said last chapter, it's just a bridge.

"Welcome, all of you," Lupin greeted the class. It was second lesson on Wednesday, and the first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the class. "Right, I take it you've all chosen to do this subject for NEWT level, so you must all, to some extent, want to be here. For this reason, I do not expect any of you to mess around like you did when I taught you in Third Year. Defence Against the Dark Arts can be an enormously helpful subject, but you have to work with me. Now, before we begin work, I would just like to commend two of the students in this class, who received the highest OWL marks in this subject that have been given in several years. These two people are Hermione Granger and Harry Potter." There was a smattering of polite applause, and Lupin himself clapped. "Now that's done, work. Your work this year will be a mixture of the law concerning jinxes, hexes, curses and such, learning to perform and defend yourself against some of these jinxes, hexes and curses, and defending yourself against dark creatures." As he said this, the words wrote themselves on the board behind him. "Now take this down on some parchment..."

What followed was a none too fascinating, but nonetheless enjoyable lesson.

"It's good to have Professor Lupin back," Hermione remarked as they left at the end of the lesson.

"You mean, good to have a competent teacher who isn't an evil impostor?" Harry asked with a laugh.

Hermione laughed too. "Essentially, yes. That is what I mean." Then her face darkened. "But did you two notice how tired he looked?"

Harry and Ron both frowned slightly.

"He did, didn't he?" Ron agreed thoughtfully.

"He must have been doing a lot of work for the Order over the summer, though." Harry countered. "That must have been draining."

"That's not all though," Hermione replied, sounding quite worried now. "I mean, was it just me or did he smell of Firewhisky?"

"Merlin! Hermione, you're not serious?" Harry asked.

"Now you mention it, he did a bit," Ron told Hermione.

"See?" She demanded of Harry. "I'm not criticising him, but I think he might be a bit... you know. Now Sirius is gone, he's the only one left. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Wormtail's been on the dark side for years now. Padfoot and Prongs are both gone. He's the only one left, Harry."

Harry nodded slowly. He didn't want to, but he believed her. Now he just wanted to avoid further conversation on the matter, as the mention of his father and Sirius put the conversation on a dangerous footing.

_Author's Note: See? Just a bridge. Kinda naff one at that. Sorry. Chapter 6 upcoming. And while I think of it, I'm going to be completely honest. I've been writing this since June, and I'm on Chapter 36 by now. So keep reading, thankyou v much for the reviews, and 'Yes I do drink tea', I love your username!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: Hopefully, this chapter will at last kick off what was supposed to be my main theme.

"Really Hermione, I mean it!" Harry snapped at his friend. "Someone is following me!"

Hermione and Ron stifled grins. "Look, Harry, full marks for trying to liven up the weekend, but..."

Harry gave a sigh of exasperation. Neither of them believed him. He was certain someone was following him. He could feel it, dogging his every move around the castle. Since Tuesday evening, someone had been following him. This fact made him feel a little guilty. After all, he had been doing some following of his own. Not that he thought of it that way. 'I'm not stalking him,' he had told himself, as he crept through corridors, up and down staircases... 'I'm just keeping an eye on him, in case he tries anything...' Deep down he knew this was a feeble excuse. It just sort of freaked him out that someone had started following him, only a matter of hours after he had started following Draco Malfoy.

"Draco, are you even listening?"

Not for the first time, Draco Malfoy found his reverie broken by the shrill tones of Pansy Parkinson.

"Of course I am!" He defended himself. "Um, what were you saying?"

"What's wrong with you lately?" Pansy snapped. "You're never listening!" She snatched up her bag and stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving the remaining Slytherins to their breakfast.

Draco groaned inwardly. This was so not a good start to the weekend. They'd only been back at school a week, and already one of his friends was hacked off with him. OK, so he had been acting a bit oddly, but he had his reasons...

He glanced up, coincidentally as a certain trio were leaving the Great Hall. As he glimpsed messy black hair, Draco's heart gave an unexpected lurch. The sight of Harry Potter's hair was very familiar to him by now – after all, he'd been stalking him since Tuesday.

At eleven o'clock that morning, the third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh years began queuing up in the grounds to be signed out for the trip to Hogsmeade.

In the queue, an occurrence from breakfast was repeating itself. Glancing up and down the line, Draco caught sight of raven-black hair, glinting in the sun. '!' He thought. 'What's wrong with me? Why do I keep looking at Potter?'

"Draco?" Pansy's voice broke into his thoughts.

'Oh double , I'm still looking at him...'

Further down the line, Harry was exerting considerable effort to turn round and listen to what Hermione was saying to him. He was feeling quite disturbed; he couldn't tear his gaze away from the shining blond head of Malfoy.

Suddenly, the two seekers caught each other's eyes. This exchange of glances only served to bemuse them both further. Suddenly embarrassed, they both looked away at the same moment.

Eventually, the line dwindled as the students left for Hogsmeade. The day was then spent shopping for books, equipment and other necessities. Students could soon be seen carrying broomstick maintenance equipment and piles of Honeydukes' sweets, among other things. High on the list of conversation topics was what the older students would be doing that evening. By all accounts, a new club called Gaude had opened on the outskirts of the village. All suspicions of this being a trap set up by some dark entity had been crushed by what numerous students had heard; that Dumbledore had been heard telling Professor Flitwick that the bar there 'did an excellent Firewhisky mixer'.

"So, we're going right?" Ron said enthusiastically, when he, Harry and Hermione saw a poster for Gaude. Sixth and Seventh Years were allowed to remain in Hogsmeade later than the younger students, and many planned to go to the club.

"Ron," Hermione said slowly, as if talking to a young child, "it's a club. We're sixteen. Do the maths."

Ron grinned. "That's the best part. I hear they're letting in anyone with a wand!"

Harry looked dubious. "I don't know Ron. Tempting as getting slammed sounds, I don't think we really should..."

"Think about it, at least, will you Harry?" Ron asked in a pleading voice.

"OK, I'll think about it," Harry conceded.

It was about six o'clock when he caved in. On the way back up to the castle for dinner, he agreed to go. "So, Hermione, you in?"

To both his and Ron's surprise, she agreed immediately.

That night brought even more surprises. Soon after arriving at Gaude, Harry and Ron discovered that Hermione was something of a dancing queen. As they stepped through the doors (as Ron had said, they were admitting anyone with a wand), she took off her cloak to reveal that she was wearing a glittery top and tight, dark blue jeans, an outfit they would never have guessed she owned. She then made a beeline for the dancefloor.

"..." Ron said, staring after her.

"I know," Harry agreed. "Want to get a drink?"

Ron nodded and went straight for the bar.

Ten minutes later, all three of them had had their first taste of alcohol, which they liked a lot. Harry was ordering his third Firevodka and soda when someone unexpected walked in.

Ron stifled a laugh as he looked at the new arrival. "Um, even for Malfoy that's a lot of hair gel!"

The other two laughed as well. Malfoy (for it was him who had just entered) was wearing a lot of hair gel, it was true.

'He doesn't look bad, actually,' Harry thought before he could stop himself. 'Hair gel aside, I mean. Where did he get that sweater?'

A lot of drink later, Harry and Draco found themselves in the middle of a game of Wells of Fire with Ron, Hermione, and Draco's friend Blaise. Hermione did not seem to mind being the only girl present, in fact she seemed to be rather enjoying it. Crabbe and Goyle had been there, but had both passed out after over-indulging on Dragon's Breath Cocktails.

Let me explain Wells of Fire. It is an ancient wizard drinking game, working on a similar principle to many Muggle ones. Each player is required to drain a small glass of his or her chosen beverage in as few swallows as possible. The number of gulps the player needs to finish the drink is the number of spells they must then perform. These spells must produce something attractive, such as synthetic fire or a bunch of flowers. The other players must then approve the prettiness of the spell. The problem with this concept is that by this point, the other players are usually so drunk that they have trouble seeing the thing they are supposed to be approving.

At the present point in the game, Ron had just about managed to knock back a glass of Firewhisky in one, and was attempting to make a dove fly out of his wand-tip. The spell was clearly not working, due to his inebriation, and all that the wand was producing was a cloud of pale blue smoke.

"Forfeit!" The other four players cried out in delight.

"I claim Double Forfeit!" Ron demanded. The others all looked a little nervous. The next one to stuff up their spell would have to perform a forfeit with Ron.

As the next person in the circle, Hermione now took her turn. She got her drink down in two swallows, and fired off her first spell without any problem. Her second, however, went a bit wrong, and a large, purple, funny-smelling cabbage appeared on the table among the empty glasses.

"Mm, pretty," Ron said dreamily as he stared, transfixed, at the cabbage. The others, however, did not agree.

"Double forfeit!" Blaise exclaimed with glee. "OK, you two have to..."

"Let me choose, I know what they hate most," Harry chipped in. "You have to... kiss each other!"

With surprisingly little objection, Ron and Hermione did so. When Harry, Blaise and Draco deemed them to have completed the forfeit, Hermione passed out. This put something of a dampener on the party, and the group decided to go back to the castle while most of them could still stand.

Harry managed to sober up slightly as they left, by throwing up on the pavement and then, supporting Hermione, the four of them trekked back through Hogsmeade. No doubt it would come as a shock to them in the morning that they had been playing drinking games with their sworn enemies, but for now they were too drunk to care.

At last they reached Hogwarts. They entered just behind a party of seventh years, who seemed to have drunk even more. Shortly after entering through the main doors, they reached the fork that would lead Blaise and Draco off in one direction, and Harry, Ron and Hermione in the other.

"Gonna be sick," Blaise said suddenly, and sprinted off towards the Slytherin dormitories. Having realised that they were facing several staircases, Ron was trying to revive Hermione.

"Well, see you," Draco said to Harry, and walked unsteadily after Blaise. Harry began to wonder just how much they had all drunk. Not fully aware of what he was doing any more, he helped Ron lift Hermione, who still hadn't come round, and they started walking up the stairs in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

_Author's Note: I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I know it's bit confusing in places, but get used to it, it's how I am. Please review and I'll get Chapter 7 up ASAP. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: OK, this one's going to be a bit more sensible than Chapter 6. Remember, I said a BIT. I make no promises.

_  
_

Harry and Ron barely woke up in time for breakfast on Sunday. Waking up was a rather unpleasant experience for them; they both had thumping headaches and felt faintly sick.

"So this is a hangover," Ron groaned as he dragged himself out of bed.

Harry nodded, but quickly stopped, as his head felt like it was about to fall off. "Wonder how Hermione's feeling?"

"Oh, Merlin... Hermione!" An edge of panic crept into Ron's voice. "I did kiss her, right, I didn't just imagine it?"

"Yeah, it happened," Harry told him apologetically.

Five minutes later, they found out exactly how Hermione was feeling.

"There is a road drill in my head," she said as soon as she saw them come into the common room.

There was a moment of silence.

"You're meant to follow those words with 'I'm never drinking alcohol again'," Harry told her.

"You're joking!" Hermione replied. "Of course I'm drinking alcohol again! It was fun being drunk, even if the hangover isn't. And oh yeah, Ron?"

"What?" Ron squeaked, looking nervous.

"Will you go out with me?" Hermione asked him boldly.

"OK," he answered, looking surprised but pleased.

After breakfast, the three of them went to the Hospital Wing and joined the queue of other Sixth and Seventh Years requesting hangover cures. A harassed looking Madam Pomfrey was handing out cups of a vibrant orange potion.

The potion tasted rather like rancid oranges, but the drinkers found their headaches and nausea clearing up immediately.

Unfortunately for Harry, the absence of this discomfort left him able to think. Straight away, he began to feel guilty. Voldemort was back, Sirius was dead, the whole wizarding world was in peril, and what had he been doing? Getting totally slammed with his friends. And, he remembered with a sickening jolt, his enemies. What had he been thinking, playing drinking games with Draco Malfoy? Oh well, getting drunk with him was an easier way to keep tabs on him than following him. This ridiculous idea almost made Harry laugh, but the guilt stopped him.

Ron and Hermione, however, had no such conscience issues to plague them, and were simply glad to be free of their hangovers. The trio spent the day flicking through their new books, playing wizard chess, and other such pointless pursuits.

By the evening, Harry was feeling quite miserable. The guilt had him swamped, and he felt generally confused.

After dinner, they sat in the common room for what seemed like an age. Then, at last, everyone went up to the dormitories. Harry waited until Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean were asleep, then put on his Invisibility Cloak, picked up the Marauder's Map and slipped down the staircase, across the common room and out of Gryffindor Tower.

He quickly muttered the words to activate the map, checked that his route was clear, and started walking. He headed for the Room of Requirement, which had served many useful purposes before. This time, he was not too bothered about the room itself; he just wanted somewhere to be alone and try to work out his thoughts.

It took only minutes for Harry to reach the corridor where the room would appear. He walked up and down the corridor a few times, thinking 'I need somewhere to be alone, where no one can find me'. At last the door appeared. Harry opened it and entered the room.

He quietly closed the door and leaned his back against it. He glanced around the room and received a nasty shock. It took all his self-control to stop himself cursing when he realised he was not alone after all. And the other person in the room happened to be the person he least wanted to see right now. In the face of this unpleasant surprise, Harry decided to stuff self-control. He cursed. The person spun round. Sure enough, it was Draco Malfoy, but what Malfoy was doing made Harry curse again in pure amazement. He was crying. Draco Malfoy was crying. This Harry simply could not take in.

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy snapped, finally deciding to speak.

"I was kind of hoping for a room that was empty, Malfoy," Harry said truthfully. "Finding you here is a little like finding a mouldy baked bean inside a tin you thought was empty." He felt a little guilty at saying this, as Malfoy was obviously upset about something.

"Well, Potter," Malfoy spat, "if I were you I'd be careful. To use a comparison like yours, I would just like to say that I'm as dangerous as a vindaloo in disguise."

Harry's mind, instead of bursting into hysterical laughter at how stupid this sounded, immediately replied 'And as hot.' The sheer unexpectedness of this thought nearly knocked him over. As it was, he found himself unable to think of a suitable reply.

"I needed somewhere to escape to," he found himself saying. "Someone's been following me."

Draco went red. "That would be me." Merlin, why did he just admit that?

"I know-" Harry began to say. "Hang on! YOU've been stalking ME?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it stalking-"

"But I've been following YOU!" Harry cried. Merlin, why did he just admit that?

He and Draco stared at each other for a few moments in mute shock. Now THIS was unexpected.

"A-a-any particular reason for following me?" Harry stammered at last.

Draco shrugged evasively. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't up to something. You?"

"Same." Harry shuffled his feet slightly. "You seem... rattled. Is it the hangover?"

"No, I got the potion off Madam Pomfrey earlier. It tasted like rancid oranges, didn't it?"

Harry smiled faintly. A civil exchange with Draco Malfoy. Wonders would never cease. "Yes, it did. Um, if you got the potion, why were you..."

"Crying?" Draco finished. Whoa, did he just say that? "Long story. You don't want to know."

"Yeah?" Harry challenged. "Try me." He moved away from the door and sat in an armchair facing Draco.

"Well. My father's in Azkaban, you know that." Draco began. "And my whole family's just going a bit... nuts. Sirius was my mother's cousin, you know, and she set him up. I can't believe she would do that. And my father... I always knew he was a bit... nasty, but I never thought he'd go back to Voldemort like that-"

"Hang on," Harry stopped him. "You called him Voldemort!"

Draco shrugged. "Act of rebellion. My father always refused to call him that. Anyway, I'm just realising that I never really knew him. He's still my father, but he tried to kill you..."

"And that matters to you because?"

"I'm... starting to like you." He laughed weakly. "Merlin, that sounds stupid."

"No, not really," Harry told him. "I think I kind of like you too."

Draco looked him right in the eye. "Really? If you're lying I'll hex you."

"Seriously, I mean it." Harry replied. "I..."

"You what?"

"This is going to sound really, really stupid. I don't think I want to say it."

"Go on," Draco told him, still looking deadly serious.

"No, it's really embarrassing, I don't want to."

"I'll say something at the same time," Draco offered. "Something embarrassing of my own."

"OK," Harry agreed grudgingly.

"Right then. On the count of three. One, two, three-"

They both spoke at exactly the same time. "I was thinking about you all summer."

"!" Harry swore out loud. "Really?"

"Yep," Draco replied, blushing redder than he ever had in his life. "And you?"

"Totally honest, Draco, I meant it."

"Hang on, you called me Draco! You've never called me Draco!"

"So? After this conversation, I think we're on first name terms."

"OK... Harry."

Author's Note: Well, there it is – at last. It's taken me long enough to get this far. This chapter's kind of stupid, I know, but you try starting a relationship like this one.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: This is going to be tricky, as I'm not quite sure how to follow up that last chapter. Please bear with me.

Extra A/N: I think there is some kind of subtext to the word 'lemon' on this site. When I use it here, I mean 'idiot'. Please someone tell me what the subtext is?

It was a strange few days that followed Harry and Draco's conversation. When they saw each other in corridors, they acted in the usual way; that is, they either ignored each other or threatened to curse each other. No one had cause to suspect that anything out of the ordinary was going on. To realise that, one would have to watch like a hawk for the moments when the two of them exchanged subtle but significant glances. There were quite a few of these moments.

It was not until Thursday that they had the chance to speak again. At breakfast, Harry received a note, carried by one of the school owls.

Meet me, same place. Pull a sickie and skip Potions.

The note was unsigned, but Harry understood it.

"Guys," he said. Receiving no reply, he tried again, more loudly. "Ron! Hermione!" The two of them had been going off into lovestruck trances every now and then, just staring happily at each other. It made Harry want to retch a lot of the time.

"What?" Hermione asked at last.

"I don't feel too great, can you tell Snape I'm not well?" He made a great effort to look slightly ill. "I think I'm just tired, so I won't bother Madam Pomfrey..."

Hermione nodded. "OK. See you at lunchtime then."

"Thanks," Harry smiled, picking up his bag and leaving the table. He walked back to Gryffindor Tower, dumped his bag in the dormitory and picked up the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map. He waited until he knew everyone had gone to lessons, then put on the cloak and, once again, headed for the Room of Requirement. He walked quickly, and it was not long before he arrived. After doing the necessary pacing up and down the corridor, he entered through the newly placed door, made himself comfortable in an armchair, and waited for Draco.

Draco arrived about ten minutes later, looking rather ruffled. "How did you get here so fast?" He demanded. "I had to creep along like a burglar so no one saw me!"

Harry debated with himself for a moment, then held up the Invisibility Cloak.

"Merlin!" Said Draco in a low voice. "These are really rare! How did you get one?"

"It was my father's," Harry replied. "He left it with Dumbledore years ago and Dumbledore gave it to me."

Draco continued to look at the cloak for quite a while. "You know, Harry," he remarked as he handed it back, "you really do have some surprises up your sleeve."

Harry grinned. "So, is there any particular reason why you made me skive off Potions?"

"Do I need a reason to want to see you?" Draco answered.

"Of course not. Sit down, make it look like you're staying."

Draco obliged, smiling back at Harry. "I've hated this week, you know. Having to act like I still hate you, and like you still hate me... I wish we could tell people." He stood up and moved over to Harry's chair, perching himself on the arm and resting his hand lightly on Harry's, making the Gryffindor blush a little.

"You know, Draco," Harry said slightly nervously, "with this whole 'going public' thing, you're making us sound like-" He broke off suddenly as Draco swiftly bent and kissed him.

"- a couple," Harry finished, about an octave higher than he had been before.

As he drew away, Draco's face turned an interesting shade of beetroot. "I..." He looked thoroughly embarrassed. "Would you object greatly if I put a Memory Charm on you, just so you forgot the last thirty seconds?"

Harry laughed. "I wouldn't risk it, you might make me forget who I am or something."

"Are you saying I'm bad at Charms?" Draco asked in a tone of mock hurt.

Harry swatted him on the arm, still smiling. "Of course not!"

"Good," Draco replied, "because you don't want to make me angry."

"And why not?" Harry challenged.

"I don't know, I didn't think that far ahead," admitted Draco.

"Well think about it now, I'm curious."

Draco's forehead furrowed slightly as he considered his answer. "Because I know some good hexes, and I'm not afraid to use them," he said finally.

"Oh really? Let's see them then." Harry gave a mischievous smile.

Draco took his wand from his pocket and raised it. Pointing it at Harry, he made it shoot out a small ray of pinkish light, which seemed to Harry to go right over the top of his head.

"Draco, what was the point of that?" He asked.

"I'm not quite sure, to be honest," Draco smirked, "I just thought it'd look cute."

"What would?" Harry said suspiciously. Draco handed him a mirror off of a nearby table. "Oh my... you...!" On top of Harry's head, set at a jaunty angle, was a pink, frilly bow. "I'll get you for that!" He sent a similar ray of light, lilac this time, at Draco, who responded to the attack immediately.

A few minutes later, the two of them had run out of ideas, and simply stood there like a couple of lemons. Well, pink and lilac lemons. The mixture of spells they had used had left them both covered in bows, ribbons, butterflies and such other things, all of course in very feminine colours. Oddly enough, they didn't look too bad.

"I think lilac suits your complexion," Harry told Draco, struggling to contain his mirth.

"And that shade of pink really compliments your hair," Draco replied.

"What shade of pink?"

"That one," Draco said, pointing at Harry's face. Harry grabbed the mirror again and discovered that he was wearing pale pink lipgloss, as well as some other very flattering makeup. "You should wear lipgloss more often."

"You... That was uncalled for, Draco!"

"On the contrary," Draco smirked, "I think it rather suits you. Brings out your-" he stepped closer to Harry and touched his face with one fingertip "-cheekbones."

Harry glared at him, but his face was softening slightly.

"You look so sweet when you pout!" Draco smiled. "But if you really hate it that much then fine, I'll take it off for you..."

Author's Note: Well there you have it. Another utterly stupid chapter. They're great fun to write, and my betas loved the last stupid chapter (that's Chapter 6), so I thought I'd have another go. Hope you like it!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: Well, this chapter should be more sensible, as it's back to formalities. I'll try to make it interesting anyway. _

__

Harry spent Thursday and Friday grinning like the cat that got the cream. He managed to pretend that it was because the Quidditch season would be starting soon, but really it was all down to Draco. He had never known this side of him existed. They had planned another tryst for Saturday evening, but this was not certain to go ahead, due to Quidditch trials and large amounts of homework.

The Quidditch trials were certainly something for Harry to look forward to. He had been banned from Quidditch for almost all of his fifth year at Hogwarts, after he had gone for Malfoy at the end of the first match of the season. This was a disconcerting thing to think about. He could not connect the cold, cruel Malfoy with the warm, gentle Draco he was just getting to know. In any case, there was no room for mercy. As the new captain of the Gryffindor team, Harry knew he could not let his personal feelings get in the way of Gryffindor winning the Quidditch cup. As captain, and of course as Seeker, he had a duty to his team and to his house.

The thoughts running through Draco's mind were identical. As Slytherin's new Quidditch captain, he was now Harry's opposite number. It wouldn't be easy, but he had to see Harry as just another opponent.

It was very early on Saturday morning when Harry got up. He dressed, picked up his Firebolt and headed straight for the Quidditch pitch. He had not flown in a long time, and wanted a little practice time to himself before the trials started. The trials would definitely take a while, as the Gryffindor team needed three new Chasers, and preferably two new Beaters – Kirke and Sloper were by no means up to scratch, this was a widely accepted fact.

When he reached the changing rooms, Harry donned his Quidditch robes, went out onto the pitch, mounted his Firebolt and kicked off from the ground. As he soared into the air, he realised just how little difference his break from flying had made. It came as naturally as ever, which was a definite relief.

He tested out a few moves, starting with the terrifying Wronski Feint, and having several goes at perfecting the Sloth Grip Roll, which he had never got on well with. After he had finished, he flew up and down the length of the pitch a few times before noticing that someone was in the stands, watching him. He recognised the blond hair, even from this altitude. He landed and climbed up to where Draco was sitting, settling himself next to him.

"Hi," Harry said quietly.

"Hi. I suppose you're going to ask me what I'm doing here?" Draco grinned, then held up his hands in mock defeat. "I admit it, I'm spying on behalf of my team..."

"Oh, shut up," Harry told him good-naturedly.

"So, when are any of the others turning up?" Draco asked.

"Not for a while, I just wanted some time to practise on my own."

"Sorry to interrupt then," Draco said sincerely.

Harry shrugged. "I don't mind." He shuffled slightly closer to Draco. "There's no one else I'd rather interrupt my training for."

"Training? You don't even need training! You've caught the bloody Snitch with a broken arm before!"

Harry smiled. "Always room for improvement. Are we still on for tonight?"

"If you can get away. Won't your friends notice?"

"No," Harry replied, unable to hide the trace of bitterness in his voice. "They're so wrapped up in each other they barely notice me at all."

"Harry," Draco said gently, "they're in love."

"So?" Harry said. "WE don't feel the need to stare mushily at each other 24 hours a day..." He trailed off as he realised what he had just said.

Draco didn't seem to mind though; he just smiled and hugged him. "They'll start noticing you again sooner or later, Harry. You're their best friend, they won't forget that."

This made Harry feel a little better. The two of them remained sitting in the stands together for a while, but all too soon, Draco stood up to leave.

"The others'll be arriving soon," he explained. "It'd look really suspicious if I was here and you weren't trying to get rid of me."

"OK," Harry said. "See you later if we can get away. I'll try but I can't promise I'll be there."

"I'll be there anyway," Draco told him with a smile, and walked away.

The Quidditch trials went surprisingly well. Harry was still a little nervous about the captaincy, but he managed to handle it. The team did need extensive rebuilding, he knew that. This did not bother him, as he considered time playing Quidditch time well spent. His only complaint was that it was time he could be spending with Draco.

By lunchtime, Harry was starving. It was tiring, hungry work, as he and Ron were the only remaining members of the previous year's original team. They had one new Chaser, for definite. Ginny had said, the year before, that when Harry came back as Seeker she would try out as a Chaser. She had done so, and been accepted immediately. This meant, Harry had realised, that all but two of the Weasley siblings had played Quidditch for Gryffindor at some point; Charlie as Seeker, Fred and George as Beaters, Ron as Keeper and Ginny as Seeker and now as Chaser. This left Bill and Percy who, as the more academic two of the seven siblings, had passed on Quidditch, instead both attaining the position of Head Boy.

This still left four positions on the team that needed to be filled that afternoon.

"You know, if you'd quit last year like you wanted to, I'd be really up a creek now," Harry said to Ron as they walked back up to the castle for lunch.

"Yeah well, I couldn't just give in to the Slytherins like that, could I?" Ron replied. "Malfoy would have had a field day!"

Harry only just managed to hide his blush at the mention of Draco.

It was a long afternoon. Eventually though, Harry was satisfied with the team. As the small group of tired-looking, broomstick-carrying people trooped off the pitch and across the grounds towards the castle, he picked up a roll of parchment and a quill and began to write down the names.

_Chasers: Ginny Weasley, Natalie McDonald, Euan Abercrombie_

_Beaters: Timothy Jenkins, Jack Hansen _

_Keeper: Ron Weasley_

_Seeker: Harry Potter (captain)_

When he finished writing, Harry looked at the list with a smile on his face. This was a good team. They needed some training together, but the talent was there. He was beginning to understand how it had felt for Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson, the two captains that had preceded him. It felt strange to be one of the oldest players (Ron being the oldest on the team).

He looked across the pitch, still smiling. This was where he belonged. He was captain of what could – would – be a damn good team. He knew that they could beat the other teams with a bit of training. The first match of the season was Gryffindor against Slytherin, and Harry knew they had it in them to kick Malfoy's sorry ass. Merlin, he had to stop thinking about Malfoy's ass.

_Author's Note: Full marks to anyone who noticed that I picked half the team from the few names JKR's given us in the Sorting Ceremonies. The Beaters are named in honour of people I know. Well, now you know there will be Quidditch later. Hope the ending isn't too lame._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: God, I'm turning out these chapters at an alarming rate! Blink and you'll miss one! Anyway, here is Chapter 10. I'm really enjoying this whole writing thing. Woohoo._

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After dinner, Harry managed to slip out of the common room with no fuss. As he had bitterly predicted, Ron and Hermione were so busy gazing at each other that they probably wouldn't have noticed if he'd sprouted antlers, or turned into a giant slug. On the bright side, though, this made it ridiculously easy for him to slip off to meet Draco. He didn't bother with the Invisibility Cloak this time, but shoved it in his bag in case he was late coming back.

The meeting went well at first. Draco arrived only a few minutes after Harry.

"Hey," Harry greeted him from the large, squashy sofa he was seated in (he had doubts about whether he would be able to get up from said sofa, as it had sunk considerably when he sat down).

"Hi," Draco responded, smiling at Harry as he joined him on the sofa. The sofa sank even more as he sat down, which was quite worrying. "No trouble getting away then?"

"No," Harry replied. "I could have swung from a chandelier and those two wouldn't have noticed. How about you?"

Draco grimaced. "No trouble, unless you count Pansy Parkinson, which I do. She won't leave me alone, no matter what I do!"

"Tell her about you and me," Harry suggested.

Draco smirked. "Good idea, I don't think." He instantly regretted the tone of voice he had said this in, and quickly added: "At least, not yet, Harry. We need to be sure about us first."

Harry looked a little hurt. "You know, you sounded just like the old Draco Malfoy just then. I thought I left him behind."

"I'm sorry, Harry! You know I've changed! I haven't been telling all of Slytherin that I've... been with you, have I? I've changed, Harry. And I am serious about you."

Harry smiled sardonically. "Oh yeah, Draco, I SO believe you. With the way you reacted just then, I'm not so sure. What is it you want?"

"You," Draco replied. "I AM serious, I care about you! I want us to be together."

Harry still didn't look convinced. "How can I be sure of that? Of you?"

"Jeez!" Draco burst out, trying to stand up for effect and failing dismally as the sofa refused to relinquish its hold. Instead, he just sat up straighter and settled for looking furious. "What do I have to do, Harry? What will prove to you that I'm serious? Do I have to bloody propose?"

"Well I'm sorry if I don't have complete faith in you!" Harry yelled back. "I DO like you, Draco-"

"You like me? Oh, thank you so much, I'm honoured that the little B Who Lived LIKES me!"

"Shut the hell up, will you?!" Harry yelled.

"Why should I?" Draco demanded, but he had lowered his voice a little.

"I want to say something," Harry answered, beginning to feel calmer.

"What?"

"It's something kind of... big. I think I'm..." Harry stopped and took several deep breaths. This was damn scary. "I think... I think I'm in... love with you."

Draco looked like he was about to faint. "I... I think I'm in love with you too."

At last managing to (partly) overcome the sofa's unique gravitational field, the two of them drew closer together. The kiss that followed was unlike anything that either of them had ever felt before. Unfortunately, what followed was not so good.

"So, Harry, do you trust me?" Draco asked quietly, his face still inches from Harry's. His expression had softened enormously, and he looked almost childlike.

Harry tried to answer, but he could not say anything. Draco waited for a few seconds, but eventually he had had enough. After several moments of silence, his face turned to pure venom. He looked ready to kill. "So, the conundrum has hit, like it does so often to couples," he muttered angrily. "You love me, but you don't trust me." His eyes, angry at first glance, were masking hurt. "Well, what did I expect? My father tried to kill you. So have I, actually! Why should you trust me?" He laughed. It was a horrible sound. "See you around, Harry. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your... leanings."

"I'm not gay!" Harry told him desperately. "I don't like guys, I just like you..." He leaned and kissed Draco again. The blond did not resist, but when they broke apart his face had not changed. He spoke in a low voice, angry and hurt.

"If you don't trust me, Harry, we have nothing. We're through." With these words, he swept from the room, leaving Harry alone.

After a while, Harry left too. How could this have happened? He loved Draco, and Draco felt the same. How had it ended like this?

To add to his misery, no one even noticed his return to Gryffindor tower. He went straight to bed when he arrived back, and all his dreams that night screamed at him the words he should have said.

The next day, he knew exactly what he would say to Draco. He would corner him later that day, he would apologise, he would tell Draco how he really felt.

He went down to breakfast on that Sunday rehearsing his words in his head. He stopped dead, though, just at the top of the stairs to the Great Hall, when he saw who was standing at the bottom.

Draco was there, his Draco, and he was kissing Pansy Parkinson.

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_Author's Note: That was a challenge to write. Oddly satisfying though. Where should I go from here? I promise the next chapter will be longer, as this one was a bit shorter than usual._


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I'm hoping that this chapter won't be as ridiculously challenging as the last. Chapter 10 was worth it though... at least to me it was. Here goes._

_I'm having a guilty moment right now. I wrote this stuff months ago, and it feels kind of odd just posting it up without even re-reading it or whatever. From now on, I vow to make an effort. And who knows? It might not be so long before you're up to chapter 36! (That's where I've written up to). _

_**Invisible Voice: **My browser doesn't let me view email addresses either. But I think I've got a solution. Go to my website: www-dot-yahoo-dot-com/isorfidiensodyssey. (Replace the –dot-s with an actual dot.). Go to the Hub and post me a message with your email address in it. I can read it and then delete it instead of it getting posted for all to see. Then I can email you! Clever huh? (Seriously, I've probably been giving this way too much thought.)_

Harry's initial reaction to this unexpected twist was to feel like he was about to throw up. He stood, frozen, for a moment, then turned and walked, at a strangely controlled pace, back in the direction he had come. Instead of going back to Gryffindor tower, he turned off the corridor into a narrower one, where he waited for a few minutes. At last he assumed that Draco and Pansy (ouch, it hurt to think of them as 'Draco and Pansy', that made it too real) would have gone into the Great Hall to start their real breakfast. Then he turned and headed straight back to the Great Hall. He had no real wish to be in the same room as that traitor Draco, but he needed breakfast. The only other option was to go down to the kitchens and beg some food off the house elves, and Harry really couldn't face making conversation with Dobby when he felt this bad.

It was a mystery to Harry how he managed to eat breakfast, as his nausea was refusing to leave him. If he had thought Ron and Hermione's lovey-doveyness had been bothering him, it was nothing compared to seeing Draco and Pansy together. Of the whole year so far, this situation was the most confusing thing. Draco had said he loved him, and now he was kissing Pansy. He had told Harry he hated Pansy! Of course, Draco might have been playing with him all along. But he had seen the look in Draco's eyes when they had been talking. Crap, this was confusing. Confusing, painful and infuriating. Harry would never in a million years have guessed that, one day, he would be jealous of Pansy Parkinson.

Still fighting the urge to throw up, or possibly start a fight (the latter being the more attractive option), Harry left the Great Hall. He walked back to the common room, struggling to keep his face impassive.

Once back in the common room, he wondered how he would spend the day. He considered going down to the lake and going for a nice swim with the giant squid, but decided this would not be very practical. After all, it wouldn't be fair on the squid, and in any case, someone might pull him out before he had a chance to drown. This train of thought showed, very well, how depressed he was feeling.

Eventually, Harry took his usual last resort, and started his homework. After an hour of writing a particularly nasty essay on Reviving Draughts for Snape, his raging heart had calmed. Ironically, it had been sent to sleep by the essay.

Ten minutes later, he at last deemed the parchment long enough to satisfy Snape. This presented a new problem - what to do now.

Harry climbed the stairs to his dormitory, dumped the essay on top of his trunk and settled on the one activity that, without fail, always made him feel better: flying. He picked up his broomstick, hurried down the staircase to the common room, which was getting slightly busier, and climbed out of the portrait hole, heading for the Quidditch stadium which, fortunately, was deserted.

He mounted his Firebolt and kicked off. For the first time ever, he wished that flying did not come so naturally to him. The fact that he did not have to devote too much attention to what he was doing meant that his mind was left free to debate other issues. Hard as he tried to block out thoughts of Draco, they kept coming back.

Harry soon discovered that angry and confused was not the best state in which to fly a broomstick. The strength of his feelings was unbalancing him and making what was usually an enjoyable pursuit something of a dangerous one. Several times he came close to falling.

After the sixth time this happened, he landed, sat down at the edge of the pitch and gave himself a good mental talking to. He knew that his feelings were a potential threat to Gryffindor's chances of winning at Quidditch the following weekend. It would be no good whatsoever having a Captain and Seeker who was so angry with the other Captain that he kept nearly falling off his broom. With this thought at the front of his mind, Harry vowed to himself that he would go back to treating Malfoy the way he always had, possibly with a little more venom. That way, things would be a little less confusing, and no one else would pick up on what was going on.

Harry flew for a while longer, practising blocking his thoughts. When he was at last able to keep his balance for five whole minutes, he landed for the second time and walked back up to the castle. He took his Firebolt back to the dormitory, then sat in the common room, no longer remotely surprised by the fact that Ron and Hermione ignored him entirely. He then proceeded to spend the afternoon reading a book on Quidditch tactics that he had bought on the trip to Hogsmeade. Being Seeker for his whole time at Hogwarts, he had been disconnected from any main tactical plans, and had never paid much attention to tricks and game plans before. Now, as Captain, it was his job to direct the other players. The team had arranged to have a meeting in the common room that evening to discuss their new tactics, which at least gave Harry something to occupy his mind.

Dinner was another sickening affair. Seeing his current two most hated Slytherins sitting next to each other, behaving in a way that made Ron and Hermione look distant with each other by comparison, made Harry feel more than faintly ill. His newfound ability to block out his thoughts was quickly squashed, and he found a soundtrack of Saturday night's conversation running through his head on a constant loop. He kept his eyes fixed on his food as he ate, trying like crazy to silence his thoughts. This was in vain, however, and he left the Great Hall thoroughly disheartened.

The meeting turned out to be the perfect distraction. The other team members were delighted to hear of Harry's success in booking the Quidditch pitch for training on Tuesday evening, Thursday evening and first thing on Saturday morning, ready for Sunday's match.

"We've got a damn good team," Harry told them, "and with some training we could have a great one. I'm not going to lie to you all, I am nervous about this, what with captaining a whole new team..." He caught Ron's eye and Ron grinned. This small act of recognition and friendship made Harry feel a lot better, and he continued. "... But I know we can win this. I know it."

Everyone else was beginning to look more confident, which in turn encouraged Harry further.

"Is everyone taking good care of their brooms?" He asked. He was answered immediately by a mixture of 'Yes's and enthusiastic nods.

"I've been looking after mine really carefully," third year Natalie McDonald ventured timidly, "but it's been listing a bit. Do you know what might be wrong with it?"

"Bring it down here." Harry replied. "Everyone else stay here, I need to get something." He disappeared up the boys' staircase as Natalie disappeared up the girls'. A minute later he emerged, carrying his Broomstick Servicing Kit.

He arrived back in the common room just before Natalie did. She set the broomstick down on the table. The name written in silver on the handle announced that it was a Silver Moth - not top of the range, but a good broom nonetheless.

Harry turned it over, looking carefully at it. "Is this one of the 300 series?" He said to Natalie, who looked unaccountably nervous.

She nodded. "It's a 370. Can you do anything about the listing?"

"I think so," Harry answered. "Can you just hop on it for a second?"

She looked at him nervously. "Isn't flying indoors against the rules?"

Harry grinned. "Hang on a moment." He turned round and called across the room, "Hey Hermione, is it against the rules to fly inside the castle?"

"Yes," Hermione replied immediately, "but when it comes to Quidditch, you know McGonagall'll let you get away with murder if it'll help us win the Cup."

Harry turned back to Natalie. "There you go then."

Still looking sceptical, Natalie climbed onto her broom and rose a few feet into the air. Harry walked round the broom, looking carefully at it. "I think it's the tail," he said at last. "You can come down now."

Natalie did so, looking relieved. Harry took the broom and looked more closely at the tail.

"Does this look familiar?" He asked as he pulled a small, spherical object from among the twigs.

The thing looked, at first glance, like a custard coloured lump of fluff, but it had two tiny eyes and was humming slightly. The assembled students all recognised it as a Puffskein, including Natalie, who took it from Harry straight away and began stroking it, murmuring: "Are you OK, Fuzzy? Oh, I thought you'd got lost!"

Harry and Ron forced down laughter. It took a few moments before they could speak, then Harry said brightly: "Well, that's fixed your broom problem, hasn't it? And now you've found... Fuzzy, was it?"

Natalie nodded happily. "Thanks, Harry!"

"No problem. Anyone else got any questions, problems or anything?"

The team shook their heads.

"Right then, meeting over. I'll see you all on the Quidditch pitch after dinner on Tuesday." Harry said, without realising two things; firstly, that Ron and Hermione were no longer ignoring him; and secondly, that he had forgotten all about the Draco/Pansy thing.

_Author's Note: There you go, I kept my promise, it's longer. I hope you like the Puffskein bit. There may be more involving Fuzzy later... Puffskeins aside, I think this chapter worked. _


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: Right, this chapter's a bit like Chapter 5, a bridge. Oh well._

_For the person who reviewed really recently (sorry, I forget the name), I was really surprised to see a new review on this. So hi, thanks, and I stopped writing this at about chapter 37 last summer, so there's plenty more if you want it._

The next Saturday dawned clear and bright; perfect Quidditch conditions. This alleviated Harry's nerves slightly, and he hoped fervently that Sunday would be the same. Anyway, it was encouraging to have this kind of weather for the Gryffindor team's final training session before the match.

The team met in the Gryffindor changing room, all holding their broomsticks, some yawning, but all looking wired up and ready for their last training session.

"So, are we ready?" Harry asked in what he hoped was a positive, cheery voice, as he looked around at his team. "Remember the plan we talked about on Tuesday and Thursday, and we'll be fine."

It was at this point that he realised how useful it was for the Captain to be playing Seeker. As his part in the game was not linked with everyone else's, he was able to look at their playing and suggest improvements.

This was exactly what Harry did at first, until the team were able to practise by themselves. Then he released the Snitch and began practising himself. When there was a lull in play, he noticed Euan Abercrombie watching him with admiration. Harry felt flattered by this, until he suddenly remembered Wormtail watching his father in exactly the same way, in the memory (Snape's memory, actually) he had seen last term. And, well… look how Wormtail had turned out. This was a disconcerting thought, and he was relieved when Euan caught the Quaffle, sped away and stopped watching him.

The team were looking good, Harry observed. He had been right in thinking that a little training would work wonders. The Chasers did not drop the Quaffle once, and the Beaters kept the Bludgers well away from them. Ron saved every goal that Ginny, Natalie and Euan tried to get past him, but it wasn't due to lack of skill on the Chasers' part. Harry's confidence in the team had grown with every training session, and now he was sure they could beat the living out of Slytherin on Sunday.

Harry's mood was bright when the team left the pitch and headed back up to the castle for breakfast, not least because Ron spent the whole walk talking to him very fast about their tactics and how they were going to totally flatten Slytherin, and how it was a good thing this wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend because no one with a hangover had a snowball's chance in hell of staying on their broom. The fact that Ron was talking to him, and not mentioning Hermione, was so brilliant that Ron could have been talking about the possibilities of breeding Crups with Kneazles and Harry would still have smiled and nodded.

The explanation for Ron and Hermione's behaviour came at breakfast. Harry was happily eating his bacon when he heard Ron give a loud, fake 'I want to say something' style cough. He looked up.

"Um, Harry, mate…" Ron began, then trailed off and looked helplessly at Hermione, who sighed in exasperation and carried on for him.

"Look, we're sorry if we've been ignoring you at all," she said in a businesslike tone. "We figured you might be a bit hacked off with us about us… getting together, and you've been a bit quiet. We know you've got a lot on your plate, now you're Captain of the Quidditch team and that, so we though we'd just give you some breathing space." She smiled apologetically. "I guess we screwed up a bit."

"It's fine," Harry told them earnestly. "I forgive you. At least now I know what's been going on. And of course I don't mind you two being a couple – you're still my friends."

Hermione and Ron both looked immensely relieved. At that point, Natalie McDonald came over.

"Hi," she said. "Have any of you seen Fuzzy? You know, my Puffskein? I can't find him anywhere!"

"No, I haven't seen him," Harry replied, looking round at Hermione and Ron, who both shook their heads. "Have you checked your broomtail?"

"I looked there first," Natalie said. "Can you just keep an eye out for him?"

They assured her that they would, and she left to sit with her friends, further down the table.

The day turned out to be a good one. Harry enjoyed it all the more because he did not see hide nor hair of Malfoy or Pansy all day. This officially made it a good day.

He spent the day sitting by the lake with Ron and Hermione, discussing Quidditch tactics and the team's chances against Slytherin. In the end, they concluded that their chances were actually damn good.

"I hear the Slytherin team are really weak this year," Hermione remarked. "They've lost Flint this year, and that's crippled them. They shouldn't have had him for as long as they did anyway, it's only because he was so thick he had to repeat his seventh year…"

"Do you know who's announcing for the matches this year?" Ron asked the other two, propping himself up on his elbow. "Now Lee Jordan's left, I mean. D'you reckon it'll be another Gryffindor?"

Harry groaned. "I just hope it's not a Slytherin. Anything but that."

Ron laughed. "Are you joking? None of the Slytherins can string two words together, they could never do the job."

This random bout of Slytherin bashing did not make Harry feel any better about the match, but much worse. He was most nervous about the fact that he would be playing against Malfoy. In fact, he would probably spend the whole match in close proximity to Malfoy, due to the usual Seeker tactic of trailing the other team's Seeker. He groaned inwardly. Damnit, why was life so hard? Just when you thought you were on the up, something had to go wrong. Harry silently promised that he would track down Malfoy – no, Draco – some time soon and tell him how he felt. He could turn this round. And even if he broke his promise, it would get him through the match.

That very night, Harry's resolution was broken. As he went to bed, he decided to have a glance at the Marauder's Map, just for the sheer hell of it. When he looked, he saw, in the Room of Requirement, two small dots that were very close together. The presence of people in the Room of Requirement caused him to do a slight double take, then as he read the names, his stomach did several backflips. The dots were labelled 'Draco Malfoy' and 'Pansy Parkinson'. As Harry watched, the dots moved closer together, until they were touching.

Harry wiped the map and ran to the bathroom. This time he really was sick.

_Author's Note: It's time for a thank you. The thing about Flint is from something my beta and friend Rebecca pointed out, i.e. that Flint should actually have left Hogwarts by the time Harry was in fifth year. And incidentally, do you think JKR ever noticed the significant resemblance Puffskeins bear to those fluffy custard coloured things that were in Star Trek once?_


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: You're going to have to bear with me, as this is my first shot at Quidditch. Oh well, I'm going to have a damn good go at it anyway._

_A/N 2: I'm posting this because someone reviewed, and I wasn't expecting it. I thought nobody read this! Thankies._

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Much to the relief of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams, Sunday turned out to be just like Saturday: clear, sunny and cloudless.

Harry woke early, and his first thought was of the match, which was putting the fear of God into him. More than ever, he wanted madly to beat Malfoy. The incident of the previous night had made him hate the blond traitor more than ever before. He could not believe that Draco had taken Pansy to the Room of Requirement. Now, Harry was not the most experienced teenager when it came to relationships, but even he knew that you do not take your new boy/girlfriend to the place that was special to you and your ex. If he had been angry at Draco before, it was nothing to how he felt now.

He dressed quickly and hurried down to the Great Hall. His current feelings of anger and nervousness made breakfast something of an unattractive prospect, but he knew that playing Quidditch on a totally empty stomach was more than a little likely to make him pass out. Having fallen fifty feet from a broomstick before, he had no desire to do it again, though it might be a little less embarrassing to pass out from hunger than from seeing Dementors, like he had last time.

He was rapidly consuming breakfast when the rest of the team arrived and sat down. They all looked equally nervous, and Harry made an immediate effort to encourage them.

"Why so concerned?" He asked lightly, as he spread butter on his toast. "We can flatten Slytherin, I know we can! You were all brilliant in training!"

"Just try and catch the Snitch quickly, will you Harry?" Natalie said weakly.

"Not a chance," Harry replied, brandishing his toast for emphasis. "I'm not catching the Snitch until you guys have had a chance to show everyone how good you are. By the way," he added to Timothy and Jack in an undertone, "if you can aim the Bludgers at Malfoy, it would help a lot."

The two Beaters looked quite confused by this, but they nodded.

"Oh yeah, and you three?" He addressed the Chasers. "Remember that Hawkshead Attacking Formation we tried in practice?" Ginny, Natalie and Euan nodded. "I want to see you use that, you did it really well yesterday."

As the team all began eating breakfast, looking a little less nervy than before, Harry saw Draco Malfoy enter the Great Hall. Harry was pleased to see that Draco looked as bad as he felt. He just hoped that this would affect his performance in the match.

Suddenly, Draco caught Harry's eye and gave him a look of such pure vitriol that Harry's stomach turned to ice. All of a sudden, Harry's nerves resurfaced and began registering their objection to how much life sucked at the moment. Why him, why now, why Malfoy?

The team remained at the Gryffindor table for about ten more minutes, before going back to the common room for last minute straightening of tail twigs and polishing of broom handles. Holding his gleaming Firebolt made Harry a little more confident, as he remembered that Malfoy only had a Nimbus Two Thousand and One. The speed difference would, if nothing else, aid Harry in keeping his distance from the stupid prat.

At eleven o' clock, the streams of students wearing red and green began flooding across the grounds and down to the stadium. As usual, most of the crowd was wearing red in support of Gryffindor, as neither Ravenclaw nor Hufflepuff had any great predilection for supporting Slytherin. This was heartening to the Gryffindor team, who were just entering the changing room and putting on their scarlet Quidditch robes.

Harry was trying to hide his nerves from the team, and was not doing a bad job of it, as the last few weeks had given him good practice in hiding his emotions.

At last, the teams filed out onto the pitch to riotous cheering from the stands. Madam Hooch also walked on carrying her broom. Harry glanced up at the stands, trying to locate the announcer, whoever they were. He could not see anyone at first, but then a familiar voice rang across the stadium, saying: "Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first match of the new season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin!"

Harry's jaw dropped slightly. This was the voice he recognised from such phrases as 'It's called football, Ron, everyone plays it in the Muggle world' and 'Harry, have you seen my socks?' - it was Dean Thomas. Harry felt proud to hear another Gryffindor doing the announcing. The job had been done by Lee Jordan ever since Harry had started at Hogwarts, and somehow it just wouldn't seem right for someone from another house to be doing it.

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch's voice reached his ears and gave him a rather nasty realisation. Oh crap, physical contact. Harry reluctantly shook hands with Malfoy. They both dropped each other's hand as quickly as possible.

The players mounted their brooms, and on Madam Hooch's whistle, kicked off.

"And Gryffindor in possession of the Quaffle!" Dean shouted. "Mostly new line-up for this team this year, now under the captaincy of Seeker Harry Potter. And it's still Gryffindor in possession, Abercrombie heading for goal…"

But Seeker Harry Potter was not listening to the commentary. He was too busy gliding up and down the pitch, watching carefully for a sighting of the Snitch and trying his utmost to keep as far away from Malfoy as he could.

He did notice, however, when Euan scored the first goal. Harry was pleased to see how furious Malfoy looked at this. Now grinning, he carried on soaring over the game.

He also noticed when Natalie scored the second goal, and the third, putting Gryffindor up thirty - zero. This was the point when the Slytherin team began playing dirty. Several fouls were called. Ginny ended up with a startling black eye from one of the Slytherin Chasers resorting to cobbing. She quickly gained revenge though, putting the penalty she was awarded directly through the centre hoop. Malfoy called a time out at this point, which seemed to be purely for the purpose of giving him an opportunity to shout at his Keeper for letting Ginny score. Harry took the chance to give the team further words of encouragement.

"You're all playing great," he said, grinning around at them as they stood at the edge of the pitch. "Ginny, great penalty."

Ginny grinned back. "Well, it had to be done," she said modestly.

"If we just carry on like that, we'll be fine," Harry said rapidly, as Madam Hooch was signalling to him and Malfoy to wrap it up. "I haven't seen the Snitch yet, but I'll have to sooner or later. Just keep going like before!"

Dean's voice filled the stadium again, as the players kicked off again. "And we resume play, Gryffindor leading seventy points to ten!"

Harry rose over the others, grinning even more broadly now. Seventy points to ten! Boy, they WERE flattening Slytherin.

The Slytherin team seemed to have registered this too, as the game became even dirtier.

"FOUL!" Dean bellowed as the Slytherin Keeper deliberately flew at Natalie, who had just entered the scoring area. "Flying to collide! Free kick-" He was interrupted suddenly by Professor McGonagall tapping him on the shoulder and muttering something. "Sorry, that's a penalty to Gryffindor!" Harry shook his head in amusement. Dean still couldn't give up his allegiance to football.

Natalie took the penalty and scored, putting Gryffindor up eighty points to ten. This spurred the Slytherins to try harder, and the green-robed Chasers managed to pull back to eighty – thirty. And still there was no sign of the Snitch.

Harry was starting to feel a little concerned by now. Malfoy hadn't done anything; he hadn't even glared at him… This was oddly worrying.

A minute later, his worries were proved to be well founded, as he found a green blur heading directly at him. He arced downwards just in time, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle, awarding a penalty to Gryffindor for Malfoy's blatching (flying with intent to collide, see Quidditch Through the Ages). This time, the penalty was saved, and Harry began to feel under pressure. Seconds later, Harry saw it at last. He dived straight down, heading for the tiny gold speck he had seen just above the ground. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Malfoy was diving too, just behind him. As the ground got closer, Malfoy began to draw level. Harry felt Malfoy try to elbow him out of the way, but no foul was called. Unfortunately for both of them, Malfoy's 'tactic' meant that neither of them realised just how close the ground was getting. With a sickening thud, both Seekers hit the floor.

Harry dimly heard Madam Hooch's whistle as he lay on the ground, wondering vaguely whether he had concussion or not. Evidently not, as within five minutes, both he and Malfoy were back on their brooms and back in play.

The next time the Snitch hove into view, the two Seekers were at opposite ends of the pitch. They both saw it at the same time, but Harry was slightly nearer. They both zoomed towards the Snitch, and Harry soon felt his fingers close around the golden, walnut-sized ball. A split second later, Harry felt something distinctly less good, as Malfoy collided with him and they both headed for the ground, this time not intentionally. Harry's last thoughts before he hit the ground were 'Yay, we've won', and 'Oh crap, this means I'm going to end up in the Hospital Wing AGAIN'.

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_Author's Note: I love that ending! Hope this worked. Review!_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: OK, I don't really have much to say. This chapter uses a very familiar setting._

_A/N 2: Wow, recent reactions to this have been unprecedented! Thanks guys! Just to say, if you like this, read A Silver Locket. I'll try to update this regularly, there's plenty of it._

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It was Monday afternoon when Harry woke in a very familiar place – a bed in the Hospital Wing.

"Oh, you're awake now?" Madam Pomfrey said as she bustled over to his bed. "Perhaps we should make sure we always have the same bed ready for you, Mr Potter, you're in here so often… You're as bad as your father was, honestly! I keep telling them how dangerous Quidditch is, I'm fed up with dealing with students who've fallen off their brooms…"

But Harry wasn't listening. "My dad used to end up in here?"

Madam Pomfrey made a small tsk-ing noise under her breath. "Of course. You know your father was a 'legend' on the pitch; it's always the famous ones I get in here."

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and put on his glasses, bringing the ward into sharper focus. He caught sight of Malfoy laying completely still on the other side of the room, and spoke before he could stop himself. "Is he OK?"

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "I'm afraid Mr Malfoy came off rather the worse from your collision. He'll be out for a while longer. Don't worry, he'll be fine…"

"Oh, I wasn't worried," Harry lied.

At this point, the conversation (if you could call it that) was severely disrupted by the entry of the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team; evidently lessons had just finished for the day. Madam Pomfrey started to object, but then gave up and retired to her office with a resigned expression on her face.

Harry was quickly surrounded by Euan, Natalie, Ginny, Jack, Timothy, Ron and Hermione, who seemed to have tagged along with the team. They all looked relieved to find him conscious.

After pleasantries had been exchanged, the conversation quickly turned to the match.

"One of your best catches," Ron said with a grin. "God, Malfoy'll be pissed… when he comes to."

They all laughed; fortunately no one seemed to notice how forced Harry's laugh sounded.

"How's the Snitch?" Harry asked. "I mean, I did land on it…"

"I think the Snitch must be used to it by now," Hermione smiled. "It must wish it had never seen you, Harry!"

This made everyone laugh again, and it did not take long for Madam Pomfrey's patience to run out. It was only a few minutes before she emerged from her office and herded Harry's visitors out. She then spent several minutes making sure that Harry was in possession of a fully working skeleton. Once Harry recovered from the initial shock of realising that he had had several bones mended while he was unconscious, he was not really surprised. The thing was, if Malfoy had come out of the collision worse than he had, how many bones must he have broken? This time Harry made a conscious effort to stop worrying about Malfoy's wellbeing.

Having received a Sleeping Draught from Madam Pomfrey, Harry spent most of the afternoon and evening sleeping soundly. It was dark when he woke to find the ward still empty except for himself and Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey seemed to have returned to her office. Sitting up, Harry saw that she was, in fact, fast asleep in a chair behind her desk. Not fully aware of what he was doing, and with absolutely no idea why, he extricated himself from the blankets and stood up. The floor felt cold under his bare feet as he padded across the ward. He stopped beside Malfoy's bed and looked down on his face. In sleep, there was no guile in the Slytherin's face. He looked like a child. 'He looks like an angel,' Harry found himself thinking. It was true; Draco's pale skin and light blond hair did give him that kind of look. His eyes completed the picture, but right now Harry was glad they were closed. The last time he had seen Malfoy's eyes, they had been grim and full of hate.

Harry shuddered as he remembered the look Draco had given him the previous Saturday night, after that horrible row they had had… Thinking of this brought back more… The terrible feeling he had felt in his stomach when he had seen Draco with Pansy… The week had not been too pleasant on that front; the crooning couple had taken to calling each other pet names, which had made Harry feel alternately revolted and jealous.

Suddenly, Harry realised that he was crying. He was instantly filled with mortification – what if Malfoy woke up? Silently, he shot across the ward and back into his own bed. He pulled the blankets up to his chin, silent tears still tracking down his face. He felt so angry with himself for the way he was feeling. He'd had five years of mutual hatred with Malfoy, so why was it upsetting him now? He knew the answer: he had had a good thing, and he had lost it. Why had he said those things? He DID trust Draco, he did!

Sounds of movement reached Harry's ears, and he immediately looked over at Malfoy. He cursed under his breath when he realised that the other boy was stirring. Harry pretended to be asleep as he heard Malfoy sit up. He heard more movement, and suppressed a frown. What was Malfoy doing?

As he lay still, Harry became even more confused, as he heard a prolonged scratching noise, then footsteps come closer to his bed, then leave the ward. This time, the frown passed across his features unchecked. Now certain he was alone, he sat up and looked around. Sure enough, Malfoy was gone. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a glint of white. He glanced down at his bedside table and was surprised to see a folded piece of paper that he knew had not been there before. He snatched it up, unfolded it and reached for his wand.

"Lumos," he muttered, and a faint light came from the tip of his wand. By this light, he managed to read the paper, not that he liked what he saw.

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_Author's Note: Sorry about the cliffie there, but the next bit would, I think, work better as a chapter of its own. Wait and see!_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: This is going to be a little strange I think. _

Here is what Harry read:

'Dear Harry,

I cannot believe how stupid and selfish I have been. You might say that I have proved myself to be truly my father's son.

'I realise that I have caused you pain. I must admit that this was what I intended to do. I was fully aware of my actions and am duly ashamed of what I have done to you. It was not until today that I fully realised, however, how little forgiveness I deserve for what I have done.

'When I saw your face as we were trying to catch the Snitch yesterday, I saw something I should have expected. You looked, Harry, as if you truly loathed me. This frightened me, but also it woke me as to how much I have hurt you.

'When I saw your face, it looked closed. It could not have been more different to how you looked when we were together, before last Saturday night. All week, our conversation has been playing on my mind, and every time, my impression of myself in this whole matter has become a little less favourable.

'I do not ask you to forgive me in the slightest. After all, after the past five years, I could not presume to expect trust from you, nor the kind of love I wished for. In the past week, I have set out to hurt you more purposely than I ever have before, and I know that I did so in the most immature and spiteful manner possible.

' I feel nothing for Pansy Parkinson, and this adds to the burden of shame I must carry. For the most base of reasons, I have hurt myself, Pansy and you. For this I am sorry. I ask you not to speak of this any more. When you read this, I will be gone. I ask you to return to how our mutual treatment of each other has always been.

'Again, I am sorry. Forever yours, Draco.'

The very second Harry finished reading, he threw the paper aside and raced out of the ward as fast as his feet would carry him.

_Author's Note: I have nothing to say now, see you all soon._


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: Sorry for the shortness of that last chapter, but myoriginal readerswere all like 'Where's the rest of it?' so I thought it would be more dramatic to just leave it at that. Apologies for the slowness to the people who actually care about this fic, I never thought there would be any of you._

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When he reached the corridor outside the hospital wing, Harry suddenly stopped. Which way should he go?

He raised his wand and muttered a clever little charm he had learnt from Hermione; it would point him in the direction Draco had gone. His wand spun on his palm for a few seconds, then stopped, pointing definitely to his right. He gave a small, grim smile and dashed off in that direction.

A few minutes later, Harry was wondering just how far Draco had gone. He had used the charm a few more times to make sure he was going in the right direction, and his wand was still pointing onwards. He did the charm again as he reached a fork in the corridor, then took the right hand fork.

He was beginning to run out of breath when he reached what looked like an external door. With his wand raised, he opened the door and stepped out carefully. To his relief, the only person outside the door happened to be the one he was looking for. His heart quickened slightly at the sight of the platinum blond head of the boy who was sitting on the steps just outside the door, gazing out at the grounds.

Harry must have made some sound, for he suddenly found a wand out and pointing at his face. To his relief, he saw Draco's face relax slightly when he realised it was Harry who had interrupted his stargazing. Harry's relief was punctuated with a sudden shock, however, as he realised that the angelic visage staring at him had tragically red eyes. Red and puffy, actually. Shit, had Draco been crying again?

Wordlessly, Harry took a few steps forward, and seated himself on the step beside Draco. He could almost feel the awkwardness, hanging in the air.

"You must read fast," Draco said quietly.

Harry nodded. "Do you really feel that bad about all this?"

Draco gave a tiny sniff. Harry saw a few glistening tears run from his red, swollen eyes. "Yes, I do. That letter was terrible, it doesn't even come close…" He trailed off. "But I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm certain. I don't want to talk about it."

"What DO you want then, Draco?"

"I want you to get lost, and go back to hating me. I want…"

"What?"

"I want you back," Draco said in a barely perceptible whisper. "I want you to love me."

Harry's ears had somehow managed to pick up all of this. He took a short while to digest it however.

"I'm sorry," Draco mumbled. "I know I'm an idiot, and I must look really, really dumb right now. I shouldn't have said. You could never love me, could you?"

Harry's heart melted at how totally innocent and helpless he looked. "Do you even need to ask?"

Draco's vermilion-rimmed eyes brightened, making him look more seraph-like than ever. "You mean…"

Harry put an arm around his shoulders, then hugged him. "Yes."

"You don't have to make any promises this time," Draco whispered. "I shouldn't have overreacted the way I-"

Harry cut him dead, pulling away so he could look Draco right in his silver eyes, which were at the moment full of apology. "I trust you. I know you've changed. I'm sorry too, I was a right jerk before."

Draco moved in to kiss him, but Harry gently pushed him away. "We can't," he said softly.

Draco looked confused and a little hurt.

"Pansy," Harry reminded him. "We can't be properly together until you've ended it with her, OK?"

A ghost of a smile passed across Draco's tear-streaked face. "God, she's going to be pissed!"

"She'll be OK," Harry smiled, standing up. "Come on, we'd better get back."

The next morning, Harry was woken by the sounds of someone bustling into the ward. He assumed, at first, that it was Madam Pomfrey, but then realised that the step was distinctly lighter than hers. He opened his eyes in interest and discovered that it was Pansy Parkinson.

Harry lifted himself a little higher on his pillow and, with trepidation, watched Pansy as she approached Draco's bedside.

"Wakey wakey," he heard her say softly. He watched as Draco woke up and Pansy stooped to kiss him on the cheek.

"Morning, Pansy…" He heard Draco say.

"What's up, precious? You seem a bit… off." Pansy said to Draco.

Precious… Harry was torn between laughter and vomiting, but managed to refrain from either.

"Um, Pansy, I've got something to tell you," he heard Draco say nervously. He cringed on Draco's behalf; he did not envy him this task at all. "Look, you're a great girl, but… I think we should split up – it's for the best."

"For the best?" Pansy said in a dangerously quiet voice. "Oh, you little dickhead, there's someone else, isn't there?"

"Um…"

"Tell me, Draco." She commanded in a slightly louder and much more imperative voice.

"OK, I'm really sorry but yes, there is someone. We haven't been together while you and I have been of course-"

Draco's apology was suddenly cut off by Pansy, who was growing louder by the second. "Do you love… this person?" She virtually spat the last two words.

Draco stalled for a moment, but evidently decided that Honesty Was the Best Policy.

"Yes."

Bad idea.

"How could you?" Pansy shrieked, her voice reaching a crescendo. "You-"

She proceeded to call Draco every name under the sun, at the same time as attempting to do him serious physical injury. Spurning hexes and other such wand-work, she had reverted to the tried and tested method. Subsequently, Draco was feeling quite a lot worse by the time Madam Pomfrey entered at a run (strange, Harry never knew she could move that fast) and dragged Pansy, who was practically spitting with rage, off of her patient.

"Miss Parkinson, I am APPALLED!" The matron quickly began laying into Pansy. "I am disgusted that a student could behave like this to one of their fellows, and one who has only just recovered from a nasty concussion, no less! How dare you! Forty points from Slytherin, and I'll be speaking to your Head of House, make no mistake!" As she finally finished her tirade, Madam Pomfrey angrily shooed Pansy out of the ward, then turned and began to mop up Draco, who had sustained several rather deep cuts from Pansy's onslaught. He caught Harry's eye from under Madam Pomfrey's arm, and Harry gave him a look of great sympathy. Evidently, getting on the wrong side of Pansy was not a good idea. Harry made a mental note that if she ever went for him, he would have a good Severing Charm ready for her fingernails, which looked almost as dangerous as the infamous Rita Skeeter's.

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_Author's Note: Hee hee. What did you think of evil Pansy? She was fun to write._


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I think this chapter's going to take a while, as I have literally no idea what I'm going to write. Wish me luck, I'm going in!_

_A/N 2: Thanks to anyone who's reviewed, or read this! My hit count for last chapter really startled me._

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On Tuesday evening, Harry was discharged from the hospital wing, feeling completely recovered physically and with a great weight lifted from his heart. He quickly discovered that he was the talk of the school, something he was quite used to by now.

As he walked through the corridors, getting closer to the Great Hall, he realised that different people were talking about him for different reasons. He could have sworn that he had just heard some Slytherin fourth-years discussing how he could never have beaten Malfoy to the Snitch if he didn't happen to have a faster broom than Malfoy's. On the other hand, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws he met all congratulated him on his catch, and asked if he was OK now. Naturally, his fellow Gryffindors were thrilled at winning the match. In fact, when Harry entered the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table, everyone seemed to want to sit next to him. Smiling graciously, he took his usual seat next to Ron and Hermione.

"Hi guys," he greeted them, as he began loading his plate with food. "How much have I missed?"

Ron grinned. "Everyone thinks you're a hero, your Firebolt's back in the dormitory – it's perfectly OK, by the way – and you didn't miss much in lessons." He paused to eat a mouthful of mashed potato. "We looked at the Mexican Biting Bush in Herbology, you can copy my notes if you want. Flitwick had us revising a load of old stuff in Charms – he got a bit delayed by the fact that quite a few people couldn't do a Summoning Charm, so you won't have to catch up too much…" He, Harry and Hermione caught each other's eyes and grinned. They were all remembering the time in fourth year when Harry had summoned his Firebolt from the dormitory to the Quidditch pitch. "And Lupin seemed a tiny bit… out of it yesterday. He had us reading out of the textbook for most of the lesson."

Harry's worried look matched those on Ron and Hermione's faces. Something was definitely up with Professor Lupin.

"Transfiguration was boring, again, my notes are fully at your disposal." Ron continued. "And I think I fell asleep in History of Magic, so I can't help you there."

Hermione frowned at him. "Typical!" She turned to Harry. "Snape spent most of the lesson being a total idiot as per usual, so you won't have much to catch up on."

"Oh yeah," Ron added suddenly, "everyone's saying how great you are for giving Malfoy a concussion. Congratulations on that, mate. Everyone's been laughing at him 'cos Pansy Parkinson's dumped him as well."

"What?" Harry burst out. "HE dumped HER! I was there - it was this morning. He told her there was someone else and she went for him. That's why he's still in there. I think she really hurt him – her nails are not to be messed with."

Ron burst out laughing. "She attacked him? Oh God, that's a good one, we can really use that against him."

Hermione, however, was looking thoughtful. "Who d'you think the other woman is, then?"

"Yeah!" Ron said suddenly. "I mean, who'd be dumb enough to go out with Malfoy, apart from Pansy?" He choked on his peas. "Oh crap, I bet it's Millicent Bulstrode!"

Harry forced a laugh, despite the fact that he had never felt less like laughing in his life.

Within minutes, Ron had spread the news about Pansy attacking Malfoy right down the table. A few minutes later, Harry looked up sharply when he heard the rest of the Gryffindor table burst into hysterical laughter. He quickly saw the source of their mirth: a slightly battered-looking Malfoy had just entered the hall. He joined in with the laughter, but at the same time, he caught Draco's eye for the briefest of moments. In that one look, another meeting was arranged.

It was about eleven o'clock when Harry finally slunk out of Gryffindor tower in his Invisibility Cloak. Again, he was heading for the Room of Requirement.

About five minutes later, he was sitting in an armchair (he had learnt his lesson with the sofa) when Draco entered. Harry leapt to his feet when he came in, if only from shock at how God-awful Draco looked. He was pale and had the traces of several nasty scratches on his face. He flopped into the chair closest to the door, looking absolutely drained.

"What's wrong?" Harry murmured, perching on the arm of Draco's chair.

"Pansy, among other things," Draco said in a hoarse voice, almost closing his eyes.

"You look knackered," Harry said, none too tactfully.

Draco laughed a little. "Make me feel better why don't you?"

"Sorry." Harry slid off of the arm of the chair and knelt on the floor by the chair, his head roughly on a level with Draco's. "Want to talk about it?"

Draco shook his head. "Too tired."

Harry nodded understandingly and hugged him.

The two of them did not remain in the room for long. Draco clearly had next to no energy left, and Harry did not want to tire him further. Soon, they went their separate ways. Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower, worried sick about Draco.

This worry soon paled into oblivion, however. At last, Harry climbed through the portrait hole, only to find Hermione waiting for him in the common room.

"Hi Harry," she said in a grim tone. "Hope you don't mind me asking, but where the bloody hell have you been?"

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_Author's Note: Well, what do you think? Should Harry tell her the truth or not? Should Draco come out of the closet? (Good God, a gay Slytherin, Salazar would be furious). _


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: This chapter is going to be utterly ridiculous, I make no secret of that. If you don't like it, blame my betas and the fact I've just watched all 12 episodes of Fawlty Towers in the space of a fortnight. _

_A/N: This remains one of my favourites... it's so stupid._

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Harry shuffled his feet. Oh God, what could he say? He'd stayed silent for too long to get away with 'I was sleepwalking'. He decided to go on the defensive.

"Why do you want to know?" He demanded imperiously.

"Do you realise how dangerous it is to go wandering round the castle at night?" Hermione snapped. "And as a Prefect, it's my duty to see that people don't do stupid things!"

Harry noticed with interest that she had not said it was her duty to stop people breaking rules. Even in his current situation, he much preferred this Hermione, who wanted to stop him doing stupid things, to the old Hermione, who wanted to prevent all forms of rule-breaking.

"Well?" She demanded. "What were you doing?"

He evaded the question. "How did you know I wasn't here, anyway?"

"I came down to the common room because I couldn't sleep – I was going to work on my Arithmancy homework. When I got down here, I met Ron and he told me you weren't in the dormitory!" She replied sharply. "Ron's gone to the toilet, but I said I'd stay down here and wait for you. So come on, tell me!"

Harry gave in. "Look, Hermione, it's complicated. There's this… person, right, that I really like… I've been meeting them. I've tried to hold it in-"

Without Harry noticing, Ron entered the room from the boys' staircase.

"-but I just can't hide how I feel any more!"

Ron immediately jumped to a conclusion. It happened to be one that was actually way off the mark, but he could be forgiven, as the situation did look quite bad. Hermione's face was softening more by the second, and Harry looked on the verge of tears and had just told Hermione he 'just couldn't hide how he felt any more'. Ron's sleep addled brain began issuing orders straight away, and within three seconds of finishing his sentence, Harry found himself flat on the floor, having just been hit by a Knockout Jinx. Fortunately, Ron had not put enough force into the jinx to knock Harry out, but he had successfully floored him.

"How could you?" Ron yelled at Harry. "How could you?"

"Oh my God, Ron, you mean you feel the same way I do?" The jinx, though weak, had had the same affect on Harry's brain as replacing his logic with puréed kippers. His puréed kippers had promptly decided that Ron must like Draco too.

"I can't believe it!" Ron yelled, still thinking that Harry had just been professing undying love for Hermione. "I've been so blind, I suppose I've been in denial!"

At this point, Hermione's brain began to put two and two together. Sadly, it came up with the answer five. "Ron, how could you do this?" She shouted. "I should have known, I mean it's so obvious! You two have been at it all along! Ron, I thought you cared about me!"

The conversation was going downhill every minute, with more misconceptions and mix-ups than a Friends Christmas party where the scriptwriters had been drinking all day.

"What?" Ron looked as if he had been hit with the remains of Harry's puréed kipper. "What in the name of all that is good and right are you talking about, Hermione?"

"You and Harry!" Hermione answered, still shouting, despite the fact that the penny was finally beginning to drop.

Ron did the 'hit by a kipper' look again, and cried: "WHAT? Don't you mean YOU and Harry?"

"Of course I don't! Harry was telling me about this girl he likes when you came in!"

"But I thought…" The look on Ron's face should have been in a museum.

"And I thought…"

All three of them looked at each other and, not seeing any alternative, started to laugh hysterically. Their web of misunderstandings had reached titanic proportions.

"Um, anyone who wants to do the counter-jinx is more than welcome," Harry said from the floor, as they finally stopped laughing. He was still not able to get up by himself. Still shaking with suppressed mirth, Hermione performed the spell and Harry slowly stood up.

"So, are you going to tell us who it is, then?" Ron said quickly.

"Yeah, who's the lucky girl?" Hermione joined in with the badgering.

"That's for me to know, and you to… not know." Harry grinned, and ran off up the staircase.

Harry's dreams that night were very strange. They featured purple, funny-smelling cabbages that were singing quite loudly. Then, just as Harry was getting used to the singing cabbages, a giant puréed kipper entered the room and stood swaying in time to the music the cabbages were singing, before suddenly morphing into Draco. Kipper-Draco then told Harry that he needed to buy a new broom because a family of Puffskeins had nested in the tail of his Firebolt. The dream ended with Dumbledore standing on a table singing 'Oops I did it again'.

When Harry woke up the next morning, he was actually rather disappointed that it was only a dream – the cabbages had been particularly good singers. Now that he was fully awake, though, his mind quickly swung to the events of the previous night. Christ, he was glad he hadn't said anything about Draco. Hopefully, Ron and Hermione would be too embarrassed by their parts in the whole mix-up to bring up the topic. Fingers crossed.

_---_

_Author's Note: This one seems to have got a bit shorter. Oh well, you can't stretch out a farce like this one for very long. Big thanks to my betas for the idea for this chapter! _


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: Again, I have no idea what's going to happen in this chapter._

_---_

It was the next Hogsmeade weekend, a week and five days after the misunderstanding in the Gryffindor common room, and Harry was still managing to keep Draco secret from Ron and Hermione. Overall, the days since their conversation had been quite uneventful. Natalie McDonald's Puffskein was still missing, and all of the Gryffindors were on high alert for anything small and fluffy.

The most interesting thing that happened was that Euan Abercrombie's broomstick suffered a rather unfortunate accident. In the middle of a Quidditch training session, Euan had fallen off of the broom, which had, seemingly of its own accord, headed straight for the lake and gone in handle first. This did not greatly affect the team's chances in their next match, as Euan's best friend had a good broom and was prepared to lend it to him until he got a new one.

And so it was that the third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh years found themselves queuing up in the grounds to be signed out to Hogsmeade. The weather this particular Saturday was quite warm; it was nearing the end of September and still quite pleasant.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had plans for the day; these being to shop, walk around and get totally slammed at Gaude again in the evening.

"So, where to first?" Harry asked the other two as they arrived in the village.

"Zonko's." Ron replied promptly. "I need more Dungbombs."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Those are such a waste of money, Ron!"

Ron grinned. "I don't care, they have their uses, right Harry?"

"Yep," Harry answered. "They do have their uses, Hermione. Sorry, but they really do."

Hermione still looked mutinous, an expression she carried stubbornly for the whole time they were in Zonko's Joke Shop. Shortly after they left, however, her mood suddenly lifted.

"Where now?" She asked cheerfully.

Ron shot a confused look at Harry, who gave a tiny shrug by way of response.

They paused for a moment to consider their next port of call, but were quickly distracted by a crowd of people standing around Flying High, the Quidditch supplies shop. They managed to penetrate the crowd and see what everyone was staring at. Harry almost gasped when he saw the subject of their admiration.

In the window was the most beautiful broom Harry had ever seen. He eagerly read the sign:

_THE ICESHAFT_

_The incredible successor to the Firebolt, the Iceshaft can achieve 0-200 miles an hour in ten seconds, balanced by a new, improved Braking Charm. The hand-carved maple handle incorporates a state-of-the-art Cushion Charm, along with the best anti-jinx protection afforded by any broom. The tail is made up of oak twigs and achieves aerodynamic perfection at any speed. Price on request._

Harry almost fainted. He quickly pulled Ron and Hermione aside.

"It's a sign! It's an omen!"

"Harry," Hermione said in a 'have you gone completely out of your mind' tone, "what the hell are you talking about?"

"There was this kipper in my dream a couple of weeks ago, and it told me I needed to get a new broom!" Harry explained, knowing full well that he was not making any sense. He did at least remember to omit the fact that the kipper had morphed into Draco Malfoy when it had told him about getting a new broom.

"Harry," Ron chipped in, "that broom's going to cost a fortune! Are you sure you want to spend that much?"

Harry sighed. "Come on." He led the others into the shop and went up to the counter. "How much are you charging for the Iceshaft?"

The shop assistant quoted a figure that shocked Harry and Hermione, and almost made Ron faint.

"Unless you can do a part exchange?" The assistant offered.

Harry was torn. He knew that if he did a part exchange for his Firebolt, then the broom would be affordable. On the other hand, Sirius had given him that broom…

"If I traded in a Firebolt… it's about three years old, in great condition…"

This time the price was much more within his reach.

"Thanks, I'll think about it." Harry told the shop assistant, and the three of them left the shop. "Do you guys want to go over to the Three Broomsticks? I could use a drink."

They headed towards the Three Broomsticks. On the way, they saw a slightly hunched figure walking quickly in the opposite direction. They paused to watch as the person entered the grubby looking tavern, the Hog's Head.

"Hang on," Harry said sharply, turning to Ron and Hermione. "Wasn't that Professor Lupin?"

"It was," Hermione agreed.

At that moment, another figure hurried past and entered the Hog's Head.

Ron swore. "That was Dumbledore! I saw his beard sticking out of his cloak, and who else round here is that tall and thin?"

They all looked at the door of the Hog's Head in confusion. What were Lupin and Dumbledore doing going in there?

---

_Author's Note: I promise on my gerbil's life that the next chapter will be longer. Seriously. Hope you like it. _

_A/N 2: God, I wrote this ages ago, my gerbil is no longer alive, so that's irrelevant. But yeah._


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I have GOT to start coming up with ideas before I start the chapter. I swear next time I will try to. This could be a little weird._

_A/N 2: Thank you so much to people who are reading and reviewing this; it's ancient and I can't believe that people are appreciating it! Love you all loads. Plenty of this still to come._

_---_

By eight o'clock, the older students were in the club and ordering their first drinks. Everyone seemed to have made an effort this time, meaning there was an interesting range of wizard and Muggle clothing. Hermione appeared to have mustered another sparkly outfit. Ron seemed mesmerised by the length – or rather the shortness – of her skirt. Harry was determined not to get drunk out of his wits in Draco's presence, in case he did anything stupid.

Due to this resolution, he found himself having considerably less fun than the last time they had come to Gaude. All that had happened within fifteen minutes of their arrival was that Harry had discovered how tasteless wizard soda pops were. In the end, he gave up on complete abstinence and ordered a Firevodka. Deciding that he might as well have one or two seriously potent drinks, rather than numerous soda-mixers, he ordered it straight (no pun intended).

Just as he took his first sip, almost choking on how strong the drink was, Harry felt a hand brush his sleeve. He turned to find Draco standing there, grinning at him. As the blond turned to the bar-witch and began deciding which murderous beverage to have, Harry took the opportunity to take in Draco's appearance. Tonight he was wearing dark jeans and a black polo neck jumper. He seemed to have ditched the hair gel, which was a shrewd decision, as his hair looked much better natural.

As he heard Ron's voice behind him, Harry forced himself to stop looking at Draco. Did he want to make it obvious?

"Harry, help me!" Ron gasped. "I can't keep up with her, she wants to dance all the time. Merlin, I need a drink!"

Harry grinned in amusement as his friend started talking to the bar-witch. Who would have thought it? This place had certainly brought out a new side to Hermione.

He felt eyes boring into his back, and looked around. To his annoyance, he found Draco watching him, smirking. God, how had he ever thought that smirk looked nasty? It was definitely evil, but truth be told, it was damn sexy too. "Stop watching me!" He mouthed at Draco, who just raised an eyebrow and carried right on watching him.

Harry scowled and returned to his drink. After the preliminary burning it caused, he found himself quite enjoying it. He ordered another. And then another. Stuff abstinence, getting plastered was more fun.

It wasn't long before the evening began following the pattern of the previous time they had come. Again, a small, elite group organised themselves into a game of Wells of Fire. The requirements to be in this 'elite' group were that you had to be mildly intoxicated and in the right place at the right time. This meant that the players turned out to be Ron, Hermione, Harry, Draco and Blaise - in other words, the same people as the previous time. Crabbe and Goyle had evidently opted not to even come to the club this time, which the Gryffindors found very amusing. So the two hard-men of Slytherin couldn't handle alcohol.

The game started off well, and soon the table was surrounded by clouds of sparkly, colourful stars and other such pretty things. The five players were soon utterly soused and enjoying themselves enormously.

By Harry's third go, though, he was finding it hard to see straight, let alone perform semi-decent magic. He claimed double forfeit, as this was always the wisest thing to do.

Draco took his turn and failed to produce anything vaguely decorative. Sadly, this meant that he would be doing a forfeit with Harry. Harry was none too delighted about this.

"What should we make them do?" Blaise asked Ron and Hermione gleefully. The three of them deliberated for several minutes over how to ensure optimum embarrassment. They were still no closer to a decision, when suddenly the song 'Party Animal' by the Weird Sisters began playing. As the heavy bass line got going, Ron's face lit up.

"Go out onto the floor," he commanded Harry and Draco, "and dance."

"Ron, that is the best idea ever!" Hermione squealed. "And make sure you dance properly!"

Blaise just sat there, grinning demonically.

Harry felt a stab of misgiving. Evidently, the tiny corner of his brain that was sober had decided that this was not a good idea. Oh well. He stood up, if a little unsteadily, and headed for the dancefloor.

He quickly discovered that it is only possible to dance to a song like 'Party Animal' when you are totally inebriated. When you are, however, it is a lot of fun. He and Draco would have been getting funny looks, but everyone else in the club was drunk witless as well, so it did not seem strange to them. In fact, a lot of them leapt up and joined the two of them on the dancefloor.

The song lasted for about six minutes, so by the time the rhythm faded, Harry and Draco were both breathless and on the verge of collapse. Dancing frenetically to a Weird Sisters song when extremely drunk was a speedy route to dehydration, as they quickly realised.

The five of them left shortly after this, as they felt they would need a vague sense of balance to make it back to the castle. None of them had greatly enjoyed carrying Hermione the last time, and it was unanimously decided that it would be best to leave before anyone passed out.

The clouds began to clear from Harry's mind as he walked. He felt guilty again. Wizarding world in peril, Voldemort returned, Sirius dead, and Harry totally smashed again – hadn't he learnt anything from how bad he had felt last time? (Evidently not.)

Sunday morning was another unpleasant experience. Harry had another lousy headache. At least this time he knew exactly what to do. As soon as they were dressed, he, Ron and Hermione went straight to the hospital wing and got a cupful each of the rancid orange potion.

The three of them were sitting in the common room after lunch when a loud tapping at the window attracted their attention. Harry stood up and went over to find out the source of the noise. When he opened the window, in flew a large eagle owl, which landed on the arm of his chair and hooted impatiently. Harry took the letter from its leg and read it.

'Mr Potter, could you come to my office at some point this afternoon? Bring Mr Weasley and Miss Granger too, as I am aware you will tell them all that has been said anyway. Professor Dumbledore.'

Harry frowned. So did Ron and Hermione, who had been reading over his shoulder. He glanced at the clock.

"Should we go now?" he asked them uncertainly.

"No time like the present," Ron replied.

The three of them climbed out of the portrait hole and walked off in the direction of Dumbledore's office. Harry carried the letter with him; if he was accosted by a teacher - or worse, Filch - he wanted to be prepared.

Several long corridors later, they arrived at the entrance to the staircase leading to Dumbledore's office. As they stood there, the door opened silently. Nervously, they began to climb the staircase.

---

_Author's Note: There, I promised a longer chapter didn't I? Hope you like the ending._

_A/N 2: Gods, this is almost embarrassing reading this again. I'm sorry about the constant alcohol references, really I am, but I can't be bothered to rewrite, as I have other fics to work on. Review!_


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I really can't think of something to say every time. So here is the chapter, no comment._

_---_

Harry, Ron and Hermione stepped into Dumbledore's office to find him sitting behind his desk with a pensive expression on his bearded face.

"You-you wanted to see me, Professor?" Harry said tentatively.

Dumbledore sighed slightly. "Yes, Harry. Thank you for being so prompt. Take a seat, all of you."

The three of them sat down.

"I will be blunt," Dumbledore said. "I wished to speak to you about V-" he glanced at Ron and Hermione "-He Who Must Not Be Named."

Harry was beginning to feel very apprehensive by now. "What about him, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked sombre. "It is by no means bad news, Harry. He is afraid. Something has happened which is unsettling him, threatening his power… Do you remember what I said gives you power against him?"

Harry frowned. "You said… you said I have a capacity for love, that he doesn't…"

Dumbledore nodded slightly. His piercing blue eyes looked right into Harry's emerald ones.

"But how can that-" Harry broke off suddenly and clapped his hand over his mouth, blushing furiously.

"Can you think of how this might be stronger than usual, Harry?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

Harry nodded mutely. Christ, had Dumbledore guessed? No, that was ridiculous. In any case, this news did make him feel happier than ever about his relationship with Draco. "But how can it make a difference?"

"Love has a power greater than that of hate." Dumbledore answered simply.

"So, can it… destroy him?" Harry asked carefully.

"Not quite," Dumbledore replied. "Though it is certainly a step in the right direction."

"May we go now, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"Not yet. There is one other matter that I wished to discuss with you. It is something I have been considering all through the summer." Dumbledore said. "I speak of the events of a certain day in June…"

Ron and Hermione looked worriedly at Harry, and they saw that his face had clouded over a little.

"I know it may be painful to you to remember that day," Dumbledore continued delicately. "So I do not ask you to. There is a way, perhaps, in which we could repair the ills of that day. In fact, I am speaking of one particular ill. The Order of the Phoenix lost an important member that day, and I am saying to you that, maybe, this could be remedied."

"How?" Harry asked. He refused to get his hopes up about Sirius.

"The clue is in something you saw that day, Harry."

A look of dawning comprehension was beginning to light Hermione's face. "Harry, do you remember that cabinet in the Department of Mysteries?"

"What cabinet?"

"That one where it fell over, and it kept repairing itself and falling over, again and again?"

"Well done, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. "That is indeed what I meant. Using a Time-Turner after this much time has elapsed is risky, but I feel it could do great good for our cause."

"I'll go," Harry offered immediately.

"Your devotion to your godfather is quite impressive, Harry," Dumbledore smiled, "but I am afraid this is rather a complex business. I beg you to leave it to me."

"What'll happen?" Harry asked.

"I will travel back to that day and do my utmost to save Sirius. It may take me a while to return, but I will be able to. You will not, I'm afraid, be able to regain the time you have lost with him. Altering the past over a period of time like this is quite a complicated thing to do, and I do not expect any of you to understand – not even Miss Granger." Dumbledore stood up and took a glittering hourglass from a cupboard by his desk. "I must leave now – we have wasted enough time already. Goodbye." He put the string around his neck, then tapped the hourglass with his wand. The hourglass began to spin wildly. As it did this, Dumbledore disappeared.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at the spot where he had been standing.

"This is weird," Ron said. These were the first words he had spoken since entering the office.

As they sat motionless in their chairs, two pieces of parchment suddenly appeared in the middle of the room with a flash of light. They drifted to the floor. Harry picked them up and read the first one.

'I, Albus Dumbledore, appoint Professor Minerva McGonagall to act as Headteacher of Hogwarts in my absence.'

The second was much more intriguing.

'Harry, you will shortly receive a visitor. Pass on what I have told you. I will hopefully be returning soon.'

"I have," Harry said to the others, "NO idea what s going on."

"That makes two of us." A voice from behind made him spin round. Sirius was standing in the doorway.

---

_Author's Note: I hope Dumbledore sounds reasonably convincing. He's really hard to write! _

_A/N 2: The trick, I think, is to use lots of adverbs. Hehe._

_Note: I'm now branching out into fanart! It will be appearing on my new LiveJournal soon. The link is in my profile. If anyone wants to see it, review or PM or something so I know whether it's worth putting it on there or not. _


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: This chapter is going to be a bit of a mixed bag._

_----_

Harry did not know what to say. He stood up, still looking at Sirius in amazement. They both looked awkward for a moment, then they hugged each other.

"You've grown," Sirius remarked. It was true. Harry was now almost as tall as him, which was no mean feat. "What the hell's going on?"

"Um… You do know you died, right?" Harry asked delicately.

"Yes, or at least I thought I died…"

"Well, you did, but Dumbledore went back in time and I guess he must have saved you…"

Harry's explanation was interrupted by another piece of parchment appearing.

'Harry, I assume Sirius may have reached you by now. I managed to save him, obviously, and no one noticed my future self. I will be back soon to sort things out. Until then, keep Sirius well hidden.'

Harry finished reading the letter, and handed it to Sirius.

"So I'm not dead. This is quite confusing," Sirius remarked flippantly. "Is there a bathroom around here?"

"What?"

"Is there a bathroom around here? Harry, I haven't been to the lavatory all summer…"

Harry pointed wordlessly to a door on their left. As soon as Sirius had exited, he, Ron and Hermione burst into hysterical laughter at the sheer weirdness of the situation.

As their laughter began to fade, the door opened again and a new person entered: Lupin.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said, trying to stop his laughter.

"Oh, hello, Harry," Lupin replied distractedly. Then he did a massive, rather funny double-take. "What are you doing here? Where's Dumbledore?"

"Um, he had to go and deal with something," Harry answered. "Why are you here?"

Lupin held up a piece of parchment. "I just got an owl from Dumbledore, asking me to come up here."

"Dumbledore can't have sent that," Harry said. "He's been in the Space-Time Continuum for the last ten minutes!"

Lupin was starting to look very confused. "He's what?"

"Um, he went back in time to June…"

"June?" Lupin repeated. Harry suddenly noticed that like Hermione had said, he did smell faintly of Firewhisky. "You mean…"

At this exact moment, Sirius came back into the room. He took one look at Lupin and swore. "! Remus, what are you doing here?"

"I'm teaching again," Lupin replied, looking extremely bemused. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, yes, I'm supposed to be dead, aren't I? Dumbledore came back in time and stopped me dying." Sirius grinned. "That's the brief edit."

To Harry's utter confusion, Lupin moved forward and hugged Sirius. He looked at Ron and Hermione, whose faces looked just like his own.

This had been a very confusing day.

Shortly before dinner, Harry, Ron and Hermione left Sirius and Lupin in Dumbledore's office and went down to the Great Hall. Fortunately, there was not a full moon that night.

They ate in silence, choosing not to talk. They knew that talking would inevitably result in picking over the day's events, which would probably make them even more confusing.

On the way out, Harry dropped a piece of parchment by the Slytherin table. 'Coincidentally', it was right by Draco. As he bent to pick it up, he whispered in Draco's ear: "Meet me at nine, same place."

Harry took great care in leaving Gryffindor tower that night. He wore the Invisibility Cloak, but it still took him a while to escape Ron and Hermione, and get up to his dormitory to put it on.

It was just after he climbed out into the corridor that he remembered he had left the Marauder's Map on his bed. This was not good, but it would make no end of problems if he tried to go back for it.

He walked quickly, and soon he was with Draco again. He recounted what had happened that day, including that Sirius was back.

"You DO trust me," Draco said in amazement when Harry finished. "Wow. I always knew Dumbledore was a good wizard, but that's really advanced."

Back in Gryffindor tower, Ron and Hermione were beginning to wonder where Harry had got to. They went up to the boys' dormitory to look for him, but all they found was the Marauder's Map.

"It doesn't feel right to look at this," Ron said as he picked up the map.

"What if he's done something stupid?" Hermione countered. "We need to find out where he is!"

Ron grimaced. Why did he agree to go out with such a bossy girl? "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said reluctantly, and ink lines blossomed out across the parchment. "What now?" He asked Hermione. "It's a big place, it could take us all night to find out where he is!"

Hermione sighed. "This map can help us you know, I mean it's pretty special." She took it from him and muttered: "Show me where Harry is, please."

The map showed an arrow snaking from Gryffindor tower along several corridors and to…

"That's the old DA room," Hermione frowned, but she and Ron could both see Harry's dot in the Room of Requirement. "Hang on! That other dot says…"

"Draco Malfoy!" Ron finished in stunned surprise. "Wait, they're getting closer together – Merlin, Hermione, they must be having a fight!"

The two of them jumped up and ran to the door like a couple of non-masked avengers.

"Hang on," Hermione said suddenly. "We're a bit too visible." She waved her wand and they both disappeared.

"Hermione," said Invisible Ron, "where did you learn that?"

"I read. Let's go!"

The two of them ran along the corridors at speed. At last, they entered the Room of Requirement to find that Harry and Malfoy were not having a fight at all. Far from it. They were kissing.

----

_Author's Note: See? Mixed bag. Hope you like it. _

_A/N2: I can't believe how bad my writing is! I hope you guys are getting some enjoyment out of reading this, as it just makes me cringe. My writing has come a long way since... god, it was 2004 when I started this. Wow. _


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_A/N: Thanks for caring, dear people who are still reading this. It's comforting to have this fic, which I can just update from my backlog of chapters; I don't have time to write updates for my others!_

_----_

It took a while for Harry and Draco to realise they were not alone. Hermione and Ron remained stock still, staring in shock. Eventually, Hermione gave a loud, fake cough. Harry and Draco sprang apart, their expressions of shock quickly replaced by looks of horror. The same thought was running through both their heads: 'We're stuffed'.

After about five seconds of awkward, emotionally charged silence, Harry tried to speak.

"I… ah, we… um…" I said he tried to speak, I never said he managed what could be recognised as intelligible human communication.

At this moment, Hermione managed the first full sentence. She turned to Ron. "OK, you owe me five galleons – I TOLD you he was gay!"

Harry found his voice at last. "Excuse me?"

Hermione turned to look at him. "Well, let's face it Harry, you've never really tried to hide it – I could tell from the day we met that you were gay."

"What!" Harry still couldn't take this in.

Hermione sighed. "You've been admiring yourself in every shiny surface you've passed since the start of term. You take great pride in your appearance. You say the most effeminate things sometimes. And lastly, ever since you met HIM-" she gestured to Draco "-it's been Malfoy this, Malfoy that. And you told me you loved someone, who you kept referring to as 'a person' rather than 'a girl' or 'her'."

Ron's face was a picture. He was staring at his girlfriend, clearly amazed by her detective powers.

Harry, however, was not paying any attention to this. He was too wrapped up in his own mortification. As the new silence progressed, though, he became a little concerned about Ron. Why wasn't he saying anything? Was he going to go totally nuts? He chanced a look at Draco, who looked just as terrified as he did.

"You know," Ron said suddenly, "this isn't such a bad thing. Malfoy, I do hope we can overcome our differences…"

Draco looked a little disconcerted by this. His fears were quickly founded, as at the very next moment, Ron whipped out his wand and threw a curse at him. Draco suddenly found himself on the floor.

Harry did not stand for this. He drew his own wand and hexed Ron right back. Hermione caught the now unconscious Ron as he fell, looking a little peeved. "He did deserve that," she remarked. She quickly performed a charm to make Ron lighter, then did the spell to make them both invisible again. She then exited, levitating Ron with her wand. "Sorry about that, Malfoy," she said over her shoulder as she left.

As soon as they were alone again, Harry dropped to his knees beside Draco.

"What did he do?" He asked.

"I'm not quite sure," Draco replied, groaning as he tried to drag himself into a sitting position. "I guess I deserved it though."

"No! You didn't do anything. Ron overreacted." Harry told him, as he helped him sit up.

Draco laughed, but he quickly stopped, clutching his ribs. "Crap, that hurts. What was that curse?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know." Then his face brightened. "I remember this charm Hermione taught me…" He gave his wand a complex flick. A ribbon of sliver light appeared in the air, and twisted itself into words. Harry read them and frowned. "So this is the curse he used. I think I remember this one." A look of intense concentration flitted over his face. He muttered the counter-curse and pointed his wand at Draco.

"That's much better," Draco breathed. "Thanks, Harry."

"Well, it was my friend that cursed you…"

"I'll understand if you want to finish this right now," Draco said, suddenly deadly serious. "It'll be hell for you if your friends really hate the idea of you and me…"

"Of course I don't want to finish with you!" Harry answered in surprise. "I'd rather have two best friends who hate the idea of us than not be with you!"

Draco smiled. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you too." How easily the words came! It felt so natural to say them now, even though he had not been expecting this.

Draco was still quite weak from the effects of the curse, so Harry helped him over to one of the sofas (not the one with the gravitational field) and they sat down. Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder. They did not speak any more, and soon they both fell asleep where they sat. And so it was that they spent the night together.

When Harry woke, it was Monday morning, and dawn was just beginning to break. He felt a weight on his right shoulder, and he wondered where he was. After a few minutes, the answer swam into his half-asleep brain. He was in the Room of Requirement, on a sofa, with Draco asleep beside him. He opened his eyes fully, but did not move for fear of waking the sleeping blond.

After he had woken completely, Harry whispered: "Draco." Draco stirred slightly. "Draco." It took a few more tries, but eventually Draco woke up.

"Morning Harry," he murmured as he opened his eyes. "What time is it?"

Harry looked at his watch. "It's 6.30. We should go now. People will wonder where we are."

Draco lifted his head and sat up with a cat-like yawn. "I guess you're right."

A minute later, the two of them left the Room of Requirement under Harry's Invisibility Cloak. They went in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories, and Draco slipped out from under the cloak just in front of the portrait hole.

"See you later then," Harry whispered. Draco squeezed his hand in response, and climbed through the portrait hole. Harry headed off to Gryffindor tower, and crept into his dormitory before the others woke up. He then managed to convince Ron that he had spent the night in the dormitory. Ron did not seem to want to discuss the night's events, which suited Harry just fine.

----

_Author's Note: I think this chapter lost momentum about halfway through. Hope I carried it off though. Give me feedback on the mushiness level and I can work out where to go from here. _

_A/N2: The end's ripped off from an original story of mine, if I remember rightly. Please review, chaps!_

_Note: If you like this, try Master Of Puppets, a new fic which is exclusively on my LiveJournal at present. The link is in my profile._


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: The end of that last chapter was a rip-off of another story I'm writing. Hee hee. Anyway, I have no idea where this chapter is going. Fiddle dee dee. _

_A/N2: I'm still posting this up! Proud of me? I'm not doing any new material at the moment; if you want to know why, read my profile._

_----_

Harry did not pay too much attention in lessons that Monday. His mind was occupied by Draco.

In Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry and his friends noticed that Lupin seemed happier than he had been all term.

"I never realised he missed… Snuffles that much," Hermione whispered to Harry and Ron as they were putting away their books at the end of the lesson. Harry knew exactly what she meant. Lupin did seem much happier than he had been before Sirius had come back. The change was quite marked; even the rest of the class appeared to have noticed. This wasn't really surprising though; Lupin had spent most of the lesson seeming like he was on the verge of breaking into song. As Harry, Ron and Hermione left the classroom, he gave them a cheery wave and smile.

That evening, the three Gryffindors were leaving the Great Hall after dinner when they were accosted by Professor McGonagall.

"Professor Dumbledore is back," she told them in a low voice. "He has requested to see the three of you."

"Now, Professor?" Harry asked.

"I believe so, Potter," Professor McGonagall replied.

Harry, Ron and Hermione altered their course and headed off towards Dumbledore's study.

When they arrived, they found Dumbledore sitting at his desk with Fawkes the phoenix on his shoulder. Sirius and Lupin were also there.

"I have good news, Harry," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "The matter we spoke of before, of He Who Must Not Be Named being afraid? I am pleased to tell you that it has progressed further. Something has occurred to strengthen your power over him. Something which, I believe, happened last night at approximately a quarter past nine?"

Harry frowned briefly, then his face was suffused by a particularly fetching shade of scarlet.

"I think, Harry, it was something you said that constituted this new development…"

Harry looked at Dumbledore in amazement. "How did you know that?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Seeing the future may be limited to those such as Professor Trelawney and her kin, but seeing present events is possible for those who have the means. I shall show you." He stood up and opened a cabinet. He took out a small orb, much like a crystal ball. "I may see things in this," he explained. "Rarely the events of the future, I am afraid, but often those which are occurring around the present time."

"I read a book about a wizard who had a ball like that one," Ron said suddenly. "It was a Muggle book, it had some of the stupidest ideas about magic… What was the wizard called… Sarian or something."

"Do not compare me to such figments of the Muggle imagination," Dumbledore said sharply. Ron looked abashed.

"In any case," Dumbledore continued, "I observed in this the events that make You Know Who so nervous."

Harry let out an audible gasp. Shit, had Dumbledore been watching him and Draco?

"Do not worry, Mr Potter, I would not presume to use this to watch your private dealings." Dumbledore told him. "It will suffice to say that I know enough. Clearly, what you are doing is weakening You Know Who's hold already. Who knows what may happen from here?"

Suddenly, the crystal ball turned blue, and began to glow. Dumbledore immediately turned his attention back to it. He drew close to it. After a while – no one knew how long – the orb turned clear again, and Dumbledore turned his attention back to his small audience. "I am afraid it is not the best of news," he said gravely. "The pictures are vague, but I am sure it is not good news. Someone is not the ally we thought. Someone has turned and is working against us. There may have been doubts about their trustworthiness, but I am afraid it is too late for such considerations now."

"What… what are they doing, Professor?" Harry asked apprehensively. He was desperately hoping that this did not mean what he feared it might.

"They have passed on information to someone close to them, information that may result in damage to our cause." Dumbledore answered vaguely.

Harry stood up at an alarming speed. "Professor, there's something I have to do… something urgent. Please may I go?"

"Certainly, Harry," Dumbledore replied.

Harry, Ron and Hermione exited at speed. The other two looked bemused as Harry led them down the staircase at a run. "Harry," Hermione panted, "where are we going?"

"Well, where you two go is entirely up to you," Harry told her. "I have to go and do something."

If Ron and Hermione were at all confused by this, they did not show it. They headed back to Gryffindor tower, while Harry stopped at a junction in the corridor and thought.

Suddenly, he reached a decision. Trying to keep his pace regulated to a walk, he turned right and made for the library.

Five minutes later, he arrived. As he wandered among the shelves, pretending to look at the myriad titles before him, he saw the book he was really looking for. It was a book he enjoyed, but which he found to be something of an enigma. He approached the book, then dropped a piece of paper beside it. He turned swiftly and left the library.

The piece of paper he had left was, in fact, a note.

'Same place, as soon as possible. Urgent.'

The book was, in fact, Draco.

----

_Author's Note: I've tried some risky ideas here, if they're too bad tell me._

_A/N:In retrospect, I really hate them. I'm sorry._


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: Hmm, I actually have some idea what's going to happen in this chapter (try not to die of shock). Anyway, here it goes._

_A/N2: Thank you for your continuing attention, everyone. I am thinking of lifting the hiatus on writing new material! Yay :D_

_----_

After he left the library, Harry went directly to the Room of Requirement and waited impatiently for Draco. He had no idea what he was going to say to him, but he was now sure that Draco was the enemy. He had turned against their side; he had been passing on what Harry had told him to someone close to him. That had to be his mother Narcissa. Harry couldn't believe it. After all that had been said… He had really thought he could trust Draco, he had thought Draco cared about him… It made him furious to think of how Draco had betrayed him. Of course, he had no proof that it was Draco who was the person in Dumbledore's crystal ball, but it was an educated guess that had brought him to this conclusion.

About ten minutes after Harry's arrival, Draco turned up. He came in looking a little confused.

"Harry, what is it?" He asked as soon as he entered. "Is something wrong?"

"You could say that," Harry replied, surprised at how angry his voice actually sounded. "Have you spoken to your mother lately?" He saw the blond frown in confusion.

"No. Why?"

"Don't lie to me, Draco!" Harry yelled. He saw Draco flinch, andfelt the chill of cold fury run through his body.

"Harry," Draco said in a quieter voice, "what the hell are you talking about?"

"You've been telling her everything, haven't you?"

"I haven't been telling anyone anything you've said to me!" Draco snapped. "Credit me with a little intelligence, will you?"

"Oh, I do," Harry shot back. "Unfortunately, one thing I don't credit you with right now is a shred of freaking integrity!"

"Harry, you've lost me. What are you talking about?"

"Someone who is supposed to be an ally is not. Someone has turned. Someone is telling somebody close to them information that could be damaging to the Order." Harry felt anger continuing to rise in him.

"I haven't been telling anyone anything! What makes you so sure I'm at fault here?"

"Well who else?"

"Name me one reason," Draco said angrily, "why I would try to hurt you like that!"

Harry laughed. It was a horrible sound. "It's not like you haven't tried it before!"

Draco looked like he'd been slapped in the face. "We talked about that! I was under the impression we sorted it out! I mean, I love you-"

The red mist took over Harry. Before he knew it, he was pointing his wand at Draco, who had backed against the wall, looking petrified. "Don't say that!" He suddenly realised that he was shaking with rage. "Don't you dare say that!"

Draco said nothing. Harry raised his wand. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't curse you into oblivion right now," he said quietly, his voice shaking with suppressed fury.

"Well," Draco said, sounding on the verge of tears, "if you really want to hurt me I'd recommend that you just tell me you hate me, and never speak to me again. That would hurt me more than anything. So just do that if you want to hurt me. But first just hear me out."

Harry nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off Draco.

"You know you said that… that He Who Must Not Be Named is getting weaker because of you and me, so… how can it be a bad thing, us being together? If I was passing on everything you tell me, then wouldn't he be getting stronger? Please believe me Harry, I'd never try to hurt you like that. Please."

Slowly, Harry lowered his wand. He couldn't help believing Draco. He was right. How could their relationship be a good thing if Draco was lying to him?

"You're right," he said out loud, looking away from Draco as he felt shame creep up on him and grab him by the throat. "I'm sorry." He turned away. There was silence for a few seconds, then he suddenly tensed as he heard Draco move behind him. Then he felt Draco hug him from behind. He relaxed slightly and turned back round. The two of them stood there hugging each other tightly. Harry suddenly felt his shoulder getting damp, and realised that Draco was crying.

"I'm sorry," the blond whispered. "We're never going to be able to get away from my past, are we?"

"It's OK," Harry said soothingly. "You've changed. I'm sorry I doubted you, I shouldn't have."

Draco sniffed. "I can understand why you did though. It's just the kind of thing someone like me would do, isn't it?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "You're not like that, not any more. I trust you. I'm so sorry."

Draco continued to cry, and Harry held him until he ran out of tears.

At about the moment when Draco stopped crying, they both jumped as there was a small flash of light, and a piece of parchment appeared in the middle of the room. Harry broke away from Draco, picked it up and quickly read over its contents.

'Harry, I hope you have not done anything rash due to what my orb showed to me earlier. There is no one who has turned against us, no mystery informant. The orb has misled me. It was showing not the present but the past. It showed simply what occurred earlier in the year, when Kreacher turned on us and passed on information that led to the happenings in the Department of Mysteries. Please do not, therefore, do anything foolish. Dumbledore.'

Harry finished with the note and handed it to Draco, who read it quickly and smiled. "Well, that clears that up."

Harry gave him a look. "I believed you already, you know."

"I know. You wouldn't have let me cry on your shoulder otherwise." Draco wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his robes. "Sorry about that."

"It's OK. I don't mind. Am I forgiven then?"

Draco nodded. "Of course you are. I know you must be a bit uptight right now, what with Sirius and everything…"

Harry smiled. "Thanks. We should go now, it's getting late."

They left the room, and walked together for part of the journey back to the dormitories. As they walked, they passed Lupin's office. As they passed the door, they heard voices. They could not help listening.

"I'm sorry. I know it must be a bit of a shock." Lupin's voice floated out to them, sounding apologetic.

"It's OK. I suppose I've been denying it, but I think I feel the same about the whole thing…" Harry's eyebrows shot up – that was Sirius's voice!

He forced himself to stop listening, and he and Draco carried on along the corridor.

----

_Author's Note: I'm truly sorry about the shameless mush factor in this chapter. It was just the way it worked out. As for the ending, I hope I have intrigued you, oh reader. Also, someone commented on my hideously OOC Dumbledore in the last chapter. In retrospect, that reviewer is totally correct, and I'm very sorry._


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I've just had to go through all the chapters trying to work out when things are happening. I hope it's worked._

_A/N2: Well I _was _going to work on some new material, but now exams are beginning to scare me too much. _

_Important message: If you like this story, or anything of mine, do me a big favour and help me fix the main thing going wrong in my life right now! Look up 'sweetypud' on this site (she's an author) and send her a personal message saying that Deb doesn't want to give up, and thinks that she is worth fighting for. Please, please, I really need your help on this, guys._

_----_

Harry did not get a chance to speak to Draco on Tuesday, as the evening was taken up by a practice for Gryffindor's next Quidditch match. This was scheduled for the coming Sunday and was against Hufflepuff. Owing to their victory over Slytherin in the last match, the Gryffindor team were quietly confident.

The practice was just what Harry needed to take his mind off his latest train of thought. This train of thought was along the lines of 'What were Lupin and Sirius talking about on Monday night?'. Harry forced himself to ignore this thought; after all, he shouldn't have heard the conversation in the first place. Quite apart from the fact he had been eavesdropping, he and Draco shouldn't have been out in the corridor at that time anyway.

Sadly, by mid morning on Wednesday, Harry's resolution not to think about what he had heard had gone out of the window. At lunchtime, the topic of discussion between himself, Ron and Hermione had turned to Lupin's sudden change in temperament. They all agreed that Sirius's return had made Lupin much happier, as the loss of his friend must have been quite a blow.

"But why was he so happy today?" Ron asked persistently. "He was in a good mood before, but today he seemed really happy. Like, almost delirious."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I know what you mean."

At that point, Harry decided to reveal a piece of information he had been withholding. "Um, guys… I walked past his office on Monday night, and Sirius was in there with him. Lupin said something about being sorry, and he knew it must be a bit of a shock."

"What was a bit of a shock?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"I don't know, I didn't hear that part. Then Sirius said that he'd been denying it, but he sort of felt the same about the whole thing…"

The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

"Something's fishy here," Hermione said at last.

"Well done, genius," Ron said sarcastically. "If that's the best you can come up with, we might as well ask the giant squid!"

Hermione glared at him. "I'm working on it, OK? It's not too obvious!"

"Whoa, guys, chill!" Harry said quickly, before a full-scale argument broke out. The other two fell silent, glaring at each other.

"Well, what do you think's going on?" Hermione asked Ron.

"I don't know," Ron replied, frowning in thought. "I don't want to bring it up, but it sounds a bit like that night in the common room, where we all got really confused with each other…"

"Ron!" Hermione cried in a strangled whisper. "You're making it sound like Lupin was declaring undying love for Sirius or something!" She narrowed her eyes briefly. "Actually, that would make a lot of sense…"

Ron turned pale. "That wasn't what I meant! Lord, is the whole world going gay?"

Harry glared at him.

"No offence, mate," Ron said quickly. "It's just that I'd never have thought Lupin and Sirius would…"

"Well you have to admit it makes sense," Hermione told him in a businesslike tone.

"We don't have any proof though," Ron said, sounding less and less sure of himself.

"Well…" Harry began uncertainly.

Hermione and Ron turned to face him with startling quickness. "What?" Hermione demanded.

"I wasn't going to tell you this, but I looked at the Marauder's Map last night, and they were both in Lupin's office."

"So?" Ron asked.

Harry steeled himself and finished: "All night."

"Well, that clinches it." Hermione said briskly. "They're together."

Harry and Ron stared at her in thinly veiled amazement.

"Hermione, that doesn't necessarily mean that!" Harry managed to stammer at last.

Hermione sighed wearily. "I've been right about this kind of thing before, haven't I? I spotted that Lupin was a werewolf. And Ron, our little bet? You never had any idea, did you? And I knew, didn't I?"

In the end, Harry and Ron had to concede that she had a point.

Later that night, Harry tested out the theory on Draco.

"I suppose she might be right," Draco said meditatively, sitting beside Harry on a large purple sofa. "I mean, Lupin has seemed really happy lately."

Harry nodded reluctantly. "I guess."

Draco grinned wickedly. "So, are you going to ask them?"

"Draco! Of course not!"

"Why not? You'll never know otherwise. Anyway, you can offer a swap. You tell Sirius about you and me, if he tells you about him and Lupin."

"Has it occurred to you how much of an idiot I'd sound if we turned out to be wrong after all?" Harry asked.

"Yes, for a brief moment," Draco replied lazily. "But Sirius is your godfather, he'll understand. And you're Lupin's golden boy – he'd forgive you anything!"

"Look who's talking!" Harry shot back, smiling. "Snape lets YOU get away with murder!"

Draco blushed.

Harry noticed this. "What is it?"

"Well, have you ever wondered how exactly I got into Potions class this year?" Draco asked.

Harry thought for a moment. "Not really. Why?"

"I didn't get an O at all. I got… an A. I only got in because Snape swore that I was a really good student, and he took me into the class anyway."

"You got an A?" Harry asked in surprise. "I mean, Neville got an E!"

Draco winced. "Don't rub it in, I suck at Potions."

This had been a strange day.

----

_Author's Note: The Gryffindor Detectives are back! Whoo. Hope you like. Now I have to go and watch Big Brother. I'm such a sad act. Review!_


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I can't think what to write, so I'm just going to sit here and look useless for a few minutes, if that's OK with you._

…

_(she tries to look thoughtful)_

…

_hmm…_

…

_I know! Eureka, I've got it! (Damn you Archimedes, didn't you realise how stupid that sounded!)_

_A/N2: Hiatus for everything else is still on, I'm afraid. The back catalogue for this fic won't last much longer either. Uh-oh. I have exams every day this week, but I have four days off next week, so I'll try and get some other stuff up then. For now, this is all I've got for you. Thanks for your continued interest (saying this to my audience of about two people, probably)._

_----_

Harry, Ron and Hermione had a day of relaxation planned for the day before the Quidditch match, but this was quickly disrupted. They were about to leave the common room, having come back to Gryffindor tower briefly after breakfast, when a piece of parchment appeared with a flash of light. Harry, who had grown quite used to this method of communication in the past week or two, picked it up and read it.

'Harry, really urgent that you come to Dumbledore's study right now. They're coming for me. Sirius.'

Harry did not fully understand this message, but the basic command was there. He dashed out of the portrait hole immediately, with Ron and Hermione at his heels. It did not take them long to reach Dumbledore's study. The door opened for them, seemingly of its own accord. They hurried through it and began rapidly ascending the staircase.

They entered to find Lupin, Dumbledore and Sirius already there. Dumbledore looked his usual imperturbable self, which contrasted greatly with the other two, who both looked totally on edge.

"Sirius, what's going on?" Harry asked as soon as he got his breath back. "Who's coming?"

"Ministry of Magic," Sirius replied, looking utterly hopeless. "Someone tipped them off that I'm here."

"We're done for," Lupin said quietly. Harry saw him steal a glance at Sirius. In that brief moment he knew that Hermione was right. Friends do not look at each other like that.

The six of them sat in silence for what seemed like an age. At long last, there was a knock on the door. Sirius buried his face in his hands. Dumbledore showed the first sign of emotion he had all the time they had been there; his face twitched slightly as he called: "Come in."

The first person to enter was the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. This was no different to what they had expected, but the person who followed Fudge in was the last person they would have expected. The man behind Fudge had greasy black hair, dark eyes, pale skin and a hooked nose. He wore black robes and his customary scowl. It was Severus Snape.

Lupin jumped up like he'd been shot. "What are you doing here?"

"I contacted the Minister and said I had some information for him," Snape said in his oily voice. "And I hardly think you're in any position to be asking questions, Lupin."

Lupin sat down, his left eye twitching involuntarily.

"And what information would that be, Severus?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"Information about Sirius Black," Snape replied equally calmly. At this, Sirius raised his head and glared at Snape with a look that would have frozen Hell. "I have reached an agreement with the Minister here. He has given me his word that I may give Black Veritaserum. What Black then says will be taken as the truth, and may either clear or convict him."

Fudge looked delighted. He took a piece of paper from the pocket of his robes and put it on Dumbledore's desk. "Here is my written consent for this to go ahead," he said imperiously. "When you're ready, Severus."

Snape reached into his own pocket and drew out a small bottle. He took a few steps towards Sirius and opened the bottle. Sirius hesitated, then decided that the Veritaserum was probably the lesser of two evils, and opened his mouth. Snape, looking more demonic than ever, poured three drops into his mouth.

Harry glanced around the room. Ron, Hermione and Lupin all looked as worried as he did. Dumbledore's face betrayed no emotion at all. Snape looked sullen, as usual. Fudge looked eager and expectant.

Fudge cleared his throat and asked: "Are you a follower of the Dark Lord, Mr Black?"

"No," Sirius's voice did not sound like it usually did; instead it rang hollow. "I have fought him all my life."

Fudge gaped. "Well I… What occurred on Halloween night, fifteen years ago?"

"I heard that Lily and James had been killed by He Who Must Not Be Named. I went to Godric's Hollow as fast as I could. When I got there I found that my godson was still alive. I met Rubeus Hagrid and I begged him to let me take Harry, to let me look after him, but he had his orders and would not give in."

"What… what occurred the next time you saw Peter Pettigrew?" Fudge's face was beginning to turn a rather nasty shade of puce.

"I met him in the street," Sirius said, his voice still sounding hollow. "He was crying. I was furious; the little traitor was trying to pretend it had been my fault. It was he who betrayed Lily and James. He was their secret-keeper, not me. I knew now that he had turned to the Dark side. He went for his wand, and he blew up half the street with a curse. He turned into a rat and escaped – he was an Animagus – and the curse killed a load of Muggles. I was left there until the Ministry came to arrest me. I only managed to stay sane in Azkaban because I knew I was innocent. Pettigrew is still alive and at large."

"Well, there you have it, Cornelius." Dumbledore's calm voice penetrated the sudden silence. "You have had your way, and Sirius is clearly innocent."

Fudge said nothing, just stood there, his face steadily turning white, twirling his bowler hat in his hands.

"I have a few questions for Black myself, Minister," Snape said suddenly. "It is quite unorthodox, I know, but it was I who made this possible, after all…"

"Yes," Fudge croaked faintly, "of course, go ahead…" He returned to his stupor.

Snape turned to Sirius, a look of malice on his face. "Black… what was your relationship with Lily Evans?"

Harry looked at Snape, caught by surprise and a sudden sense of foreboding. What was this about?

"We spent some time together, when we were at school," said Sirius in his hollow, dead-sounding voice. "Before she and James began dating."

Harry's stomach began threatening to leave the room; whether he came with it or not did not matter.

Snape's mouth curled into a nasty smile. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"We were a couple. In secret, of course, it would have destroyed James. We were not in love, not really, it was just fun. It didn't last long, anyway. Soon she realised that she wanted James. They got together, and it was then that I realised my own true feelings. I hid them for years. It's only now that I've admitted them."

"And what are those, then?" Snape asked.

Everyone else was too shocked at this turn of events to protest this intrusion into Sirius's mind.

At last, Sirius spoke. "That I love Remus Lupin."

----

_Author's Note: I got there in the end. Unfortunately, I think I've used up all my A-material already. Where do I go from here?_

_A/N2: Ugh, that implies really OOC Lily. Damn. Oh well._


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I have no idea where this fic is going. Hmm, let's see._

_(Takes out wand from pocket)_

_Point me!_

_(Frowns)_

_You're pointing to 'Ginny Weasley turns out to be a master criminal', you stupid thing!_

_(Berates wand)_

_Sorry folks, my wand's always been a little unpredictable. It's maple and Demiguise hair; it's rather unusual. It's also prone to disappearing for several minutes at a time, which can be quite irritating, but that's beside the point. _

_----_

As soon as he had said those last five words, Sirius's eyes went blank and his head fell forwards. The effect on the spectators was quite profound. Lupin had turned the colour of an over-ripe cherry. Fudge seemed to be oblivious to what had just happened. Snape looked shell-shocked. As they all sat and stood in utter silence, Ron whispered loudly: "Hermione, please pinch me." Hermione, who was wearing a smug smile, gladly did so.

"Ow!" Ron exclaimed.

"Well, you told me to do it," she said.

At that moment, Sirius returned to the conscious world, looking concerned. He looked around the room. "Crap, what did I just say?"

There was silence. No one even breathed. "What did I say? Someone tell me, please…"

Lupin cleared his throat. "Um, something you told me a few days ago…"

Sirius turned an unusual shade of greenish white. "Oh, God, no…"

"I think the time has come to remedy the situation," Dumbledore said quietly. Everyone turned to look at him; they had all forgotten he was even there. He took out his wand. Before anyone had time to protest, he performed Memory Charms on both Fudge and Snape. Their eyes quickly turned to looks of dreamy unawareness. "Severus, Cornelius, you may leave now," Dumbledore said in the tone one would use when talking to a small child.

The two of them exited, leaving Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Lupin in the office.

"I only erased that last part from their memories," Dumbledore explained. "You are still cleared, Sirius; I simply thought that what came after was a little invasive of your privacy. As for these three, I decided that I would leave that to your own discretion."

Sirius looked at Harry, Ron and Hermione. He sighed. "They'd work it out in the end anyway, so it's OK." He looked over at Lupin, whose face was beginning to turn back to its normal colour. "Sorry about that, Remus."

"It's alright," Lupin replied, his voice sounding a little faint. "You're right, nothing escapes these three."

An awkward silence followed. "So, are you ready to return to society?" Dumbledore asked Sirius at last.

Sirius smiled. "I suppose so. It's a lot to cope with at once. I think I'll have to ingratiate myself back into normal society before I start revealing anything else to the general public." He turned to the three Gryffindors. "You won't tell anyone about me and Remus, will you?"

Harry blushed. Sirius noticed this. "Oh Lord, Harry, who have you told?"

Hermione turned to stare at Harry too. "Yeah, Harry, who?"

Harry blushed even deeper. He took a deep breath. "Draco," he mumbled.

If Sirius had raised his eyebrows any further at this point, they would have left his head. "Draco Malfoy?"

Harry blushed redder still. "Yes."

"Why?"asked Sirius in a 'pinch me' tone.

"Um, long story…"

"Tell me, Harry."

"Not here…"

Dumbledore stood up. "Remus, I think it is time we took a walk…" He and Lupin left the room.

"Now can you tell me?" Sirius asked Harry. Harry swallowed hard and nodded.

"Um, it started this summer. I kept thinking about Malfoy. Then there was this one night, a few weeks ago. I was feeling really upset about something, so I went to… this room I know."

"The Room of Requirement?" Sirius queried.

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

Sirius grinned. "Um, I think you're forgetting who made that map of yours…"

"Anyway, I went to the room, and I found Malfoy in there. He was crying. We got talking, and he said he'd been thinking about me too. Then it kind of went from there. Long story short, we're… together now."

"Shit!" Sirius swore under his breath. "Well, I wasn't expecting _that_." He fell silent for a moment. "Good for you. Does anyone else know yet?"

"These two," Harry gestured to Ron and Hermione. "And you. That's it. Dumbledore knows I'm in love with someone as that's what's weakening He Who Must Not Be Named, but not who." He shuddered. "Merlin knows what he'd say if he did know who it was."

Sirius started to laugh. Harry gave him a quizzical look. "Harry, Dumbledore's just accepted me and Remus without batting an eyelid. You and Draco, what makes you think it'd be any different?"

"The fact we're in different houses? Meant to be enemies? The fact his father's a Death Eater?"

"Harry, haven't I taught you that the sins of the fathers should not be visited on their children? Look at my family!"

Harry pictured the portrait he had seen of Sirius's mother. "I'd rather not."

----

_Author's Note: Rather short. And I still don't know where this is going. I'll try that spell again. _

_(Looks around)_

_Damn, my wand's disappeared again! Flaming Demiguises! _

_P.S. Oops, if I was looking for the opportune moment… that was it. I forgot to mention that Draco is actually Sirius's second cousin. Point about family more than proved, methinks. _

_A/N2: Gods, my old notes sound so stupid now... Thanks for the interest, and extra thanks to those who review! (Glaring at everyone else) Review and make me happy!_


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I think this chapter's going to be a bit of an interim one, while I gather my thoughts ready for the Big Push (which will in some way involve Voldemort, though I'm not sure what he'll do yet). Well here it is. _

_A/N: I'm running out of material! And I'm trying to plan my triumphant return to writing new stuff with A Silver Locket and Solitatire._

_----_

Due to the events of Saturday, Harry had no time to worry about the Quidditch match. This meant he was not noticeably nervous on Sunday morning, which turned out to be a blessing, as the rest of the Gryffindor team seemed to draw courage from his 'quiet confidence'.

In the end, it had been decided that it was not wise for Sirius to make his first public appearance quite yet, so he was not present. Lupin, however, was up in the teachers' box, wearing red and looking almost deliriously happy.

It was another clear day, this time with a slight threat of drizzle. This did not dampen Harry's spirits, though. As the teams filed onto the pitch in their Quidditch robes, Harry caught the intense grey eyes of Draco, who was sitting on the front row of the Slytherin stands, and they shared a smile. Harry shook hands with the yellow-robed Hufflepuff captain, and the game began.

Within five minutes, Harry had to concede that Hufflepuff had improved since last year. They scored the first two goals, proving that they were not the losers they had once been thought to be.

Hufflepuff were up forty points to zero when something finally happened in the Gryffindors' favour. Two of the canary-yellow Chasers entered the scoring area at once, and a penalty was awarded to Gryffindor. Ginny took the Quaffle and scored Gryffindor's first goal effortlessly. This gave the team new courage, and they soon pulled back to forty – thirty. This was when Harry first saw the Snitch.

It was only a glimpse, a small flash of gold out of the corner of his eye. Harry glanced at Summerby, the other Seeker; he had not seen it. Harry turned to look for the Snitch properly, and established for certain that it was there, just above the ground in front of the Ravenclaw stands. He shot after it, dodging a Bludger as he went. He was only metres away from the Snitch when he suddenly became aware of the other Bludger, whistling in his direction. Harry swerved, and when he regained complete balance, the Snitch had gone.

He cursed himself as he returned to normal flying altitude. His mood was soon lifted, though, as Gryffindor scored four more times, placing them in the lead seventy – forty. At this point, the scarlet Beaters began to work a lot harder, leaving Harry free to search for the Snitch unhindered.

The task did not take long. It was only about five minutes later when he saw it again. This time, it was above his height, not too far away. He chanced a quick glance at Summerby, then headed for the Snitch. As he pursued, the Snitch's tiny wings fluttered and it sped away, towards the ground. Harry had no great desire to hit the ground at high velocity _again_, so he forced his Firebolt to go even faster. About three seconds later, his fingers closed around the Snitch. He drew it in closer to his body, and descended slowly. The Gryffindor supporters were going wild. When he landed, even Summerby congratulated Harry.

In order to celebrate their comfortable first place in the Quidditch Cup, the rest of the day for the Gryffindors was devoted predominantly to partying in the common room. Several people left mysteriously, reappearing ten minutes later carrying food and drinks, and telling Harry that Dobby said hello.

The party broke up for dinner, although few of the Gryffindors were actually hungry by then. It was only after dinner that Harry managed to escape the revels. He exchanged a significant glance with Draco as he left the Great Hall, and set his course for the Room of Requirement.

"Escaped your adoring fans, then?" Harry had been in the room for several minutes when a sarcastic voice alerted him to the fact he was no longer alone.

"Hi, Draco," he replied, as the blond entered. "I wish they'd leave off, actually. It's getting a little annoying."

"Well, I'm beginning to understand it, to be honest," Draco told him as he sat down. "I was watching you fly today and, much as it galls me to say this, I mean with you being my rival and that, you're seriously good on a broom."

"Aww, thanks, deadly rival," Harry said, grinning.

"Ha ha. Well done today. Slytherin are going to have some catching up to do if we want a chance of getting the Cup."

"Not a hope. You forget Gryffindor have got me."

"You think you're so witty, don't you?" Draco said, but he was smiling.

"Yes, I do rather."

They grinned at each other. At moments like this, Harry felt all their bad times slip away.

It was a happy evening that they whiled away together. All too soon, it was late, and they had to leave.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were a little disconcerted by something on Monday: Snape was almost smiling.

"I've got it!" Ron said suddenly, halfway through breakfast. "He's smiling because someone's died!"

"Ron, don't be stupid," Hermione frowned. "I mean-"

They never did find out what she meant, though, because at that very moment, the post arrived. Hundreds of owls swept into the Great Hall and began dropping parcels and envelopes on people's heads and into their breakfasts.

A package fell in front of Hermione. She seized it and ripped it open, pulling out a copy of the Daily Prophet newspaper. She let out a strangled cry when she read the headline.

"What?" Harry asked. "What is it?"

In response, she simply brandished the paper at him and Ron.

Harry read the headline. "'Sirius Black cleared in shock revelation.' At last, he's free!" He squinted at the corner of the page. "And there's our answer vis-à-vis Snape's smiling fit." He pointed to a tiny piece of writing, about a square centimetre or two in size. "'This would not have been possible were it not for the dedication and skill of Severus Snape, now a member of the Order of Merlin, Third Class.' Good God, they gave him an Order of Merlin for this!"

----

_Author's Note: Sorry, but I really don't feel like writing more. It's kind of weird around here right now, I can't account for my moods._

_A/N: I wonder what was going on when I wrote this... I'll have to find out. Anyhoo, hope you like._


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I don't think Voldemort's attack is going to happen for a while. Fear not; it will come eventually. It could be tomorrow, it could be next year, it could be when you're least expecting it… or whenever's good for you. _

_A/N2: The rest of my stories are now off hiatus! Now I just need to finish this one... After this I only have six backlog chapters left... Uh-oh._

_----_

It was strange sitting in Defence Against the Dark Arts that afternoon, knowing what the three Gryffindors knew. Lupin still seemed disconcertingly happy. He spent the lesson teaching the class several new and interesting hexes, which resulted in some very bizarre behaviour from various people. After they left, Ron could not stop moving his head like a chicken, and Harry was still distinctly unsteady after receiving a particularly strong Unbalancing Hex from Hermione.

Conversation among the students had turned to a new focal point: Sirius Black's sudden transition from mass-murderer to wronged wizard. Some students were trying to act as if they had known it all along. Most, however, just seemed shell-shocked. This was compounded by the rumour that Sirius Black was currently residing somewhere in Hogwarts, which mainly came down to the fact that everyone knew Snape had been somehow involved, and someone had guessed the connection.

On Monday evening, Harry, Ron and Hermione were doing homework in the Gryffindor common room when an owl swooped in through the window and landed on the arm of Harry's chair. He took the note from its leg, recognising Sirius's handwriting, and read it.

" _Harry, if you and your friends aren't too busy, I'd love for you to come and see me tonight. I'm in a secret room on the second floor, next to a statue of Genevieve the Jumpy. The password is 'Snuffles'._ " He turned to Ron and Hermione. "Should we go then?"

Hermione looked doubtful, but Ron shrugged in agreement. "Yeah, let's go. This essay isn't due till Thursday anyway." They stood up and left.

It took a while to find Sirius's room, as it was in a part of the second floor that they had been in very little before. Eventually though, they found the statue Sirius had mentioned, and said the password. A large tapestry swung aside to let them in, and the three of them climbed through the hole.

Sirius turned round as he heard them come in, and smiled when he saw who it was. "You made it!"

"Yep," Harry grinned back. "You successfully dragged us away from our fascinating homework."

"Tut tut. I just thought I should have someone here to commemorate my first piece of post in about fifteen years…" He indicated a red envelope on the desk. "If only for moral support." He gingerly picked up the Howler (for that was what the envelope was) and opened it. An angry female voice suddenly filled the room.

"STUBBY BOARDMAN, HOW COULD YOU JUST LEAVE ME LIKE THAT? I KNOW YOU'RE A FREE MAN NOW, SO YOU'VE NO EXCUSE FOR NOT GETTING IN TOUCH! AFTER THAT LOVELY MEAL WE SHARED, THE NIGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE KILLED THOSE MUGGLES, I THOUGHT YOU CARED FOR ME! WELL WE ARE FINISHED! DON'T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT COMING NEAR DORIS PURKISS AGAIN!" The voice finished its tirade. The envelope caught fire and crumbled to nothing. Sirius's face registered blank astonishment.

"Who, or what, is Doris Purkiss?" He asked tentatively. "And since when has my name been Stubby Boardman?"

Harry and Ron were both laughing too hard to answer. Hermione did it instead. "According to an article in The Quibbler last year, Doris Purkiss is a woman who thinks you are actually a singer called Stubby Boardman, who she was going out with before you went to Azkaban. She was on a date with Stubby the night Pettigrew faked his own death, but then he never contacted her again. She thinks that you are Stubby, and couldn't possibly have killed the Muggles as 'you' were with her at the time."

Now that he knew the full story, Sirius doubled up with laughter, just like Harry and Ron.

"Hang on!" Harry said suddenly. "I can hear someone outside!" He stepped over to the door and listened.

"And I'm telling you that's Ron and Harry in there!" A girl's voice drifted in. Harry visibly relaxed as he recognised it, and he lifted the tapestry to find Ginny standing outside with Luna Lovegood.

"Hi Ginny, hi Luna," he said a little apprehensively.

Before he could say any more, however, Luna broke in. "What's Stubby Boardman doing in our school?"

And so it occurred that by eight o'clock on Monday, no less thannine people knew about Sirius living at Hogwarts. This led to the realisation that, before long, the whole school would know.

After giving Ginny and Luna a brief explanation of the situation, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sirius decided to go to Dumbledore and try to get something done about the fact Sirius was still having to hide. Hermione performed her invisibility spell on Sirius before they left the room, in case they ran into anyone in the corridors. First, they went to Lupin's office, and then the five of them carried on to Dumbledore's office. Between them, they managed to guess the password ('pear drop'), and they went in.

The conversation was not too long. Due to their insistence that everyone would find out sooner or later anyway, Dumbledore agreed to make an announcement at breakfast on Tuesday, informing the students of Sirius's presence, after which he would be free to be seen by the students.

Sirius quickly settled into his new life, and the students seemed, remarkably, to accept his presence. He seemed quite comfortable with being a free man, and one who was believed to be innocent, at that.

So much so, in fact, that eleven days later he made his first foray into the public eye by going to Hogsmeade along with the students. Lupin stayed by his side all day, looking oddly like a bodyguard. This proved a great source of mirth to Harry and his friends.

Predictably, the evening ended with a group of very soused Sixth Years making their unsteady way back to the castle. Had they not been so drunk, however, they might have noticed Lupin walking back to the castle a little way behind them. He was alone.

----

_Author's Note: My God, this chapter is boring. I'm working up to something, don't worry. _


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: Hopefully, there should be something completely unexpected in this chapter. Wish me luck._

_A/N2: After this, I have 5 chapters left. I guess I'd better make the effort to write more for this fic; the style will suddenly change between chapters 36 and 37 if I do that. I just want to say thanks to anyone who's reading this, reviewing it, liking it, etc, I love you all._

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On the following Monday, a rather unwelcome shock arrived with the post. As usual, an owl swooped down to Hermione with her usual pile of newspapers and magazines. Harry and Ron, being used to this, did not look up, at least not until they heard Hermione's shocked gasp. When she had caught their attention, she wordlessly shoved a magazine into Harry's hand. He looked down at it and realised it was Witch Weekly, known for catty gossip and rumours. After the name, the first thing to attract his attention was the headline. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he read the large print in pride of place on the glossy cover.

MY NIGHT OF PASSION WITH LOVE GOD BLACK

Underneath was a smaller title, 'Sirius Black enjoys his freedom in style'. Without taking his eyes off the magazine for a second, Harry flicked rapidly to the page where the article was. For several minutes, he read it, silent and frowning.

When he had finished, he looked up, an expression of acute shock on his face. He handed the magazine back to Hermione. The first paragraph had said it all, but he had had to read the article just to make sure.

'After recently receiving a pardon from the Ministry of Magic, Sirius Black has wasted no time in getting back on the dating scene. Here, Rosmerta Goodison tells all about Saturday's night of earthly delights with the man of the moment.'

Hermione looked up from the page and frowned at Harry. "But Sirius was in Hogsmeade on Saturday night!"

Harry narrowed his eyes in thought. "Yes, he was… oh no. No…"

"Yes," Hermione said grimly. "Madam Rosmerta."

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_Author's Note: I know it's short, but how can I carry this on? All will be made clear next chapter. Well, maybe not 'made clear', more 'expanded on'. I think._


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me._

_Author's Note: I hope that last chapter shocked and horrified you all. Heh._

_---_

As soon as they entered Defence Against the Dark Arts that afternoon, Harry, Ron and Hermione could tell that Professor Lupin didn't know about Madam Rosmerta. He was in his usual high spirits, and clearly had no idea about anything untoward going on.

This led to an argument between the three Gryffindors, which went on throughout the lesson. 'Should we tell him?' 'No, let Sirius tell him.' 'He deserves to know.' 'I don't think we should be the ones to decide that.' 'He'll find out anyway.' And so on. Having reached no decision by the time the bell went (and not having done much work either), they decided to leave well alone. For now, at least.

The argument re-ignited fiercely at dinner, however. At the staff table, they could see Lupin and Sirius talking quite normally.

"He hasn't told him!" Hermione hissed to the other two. "The little coward…"

"Hey!" Harry quickly jumped to his godfather's defence. "It's his choice!"

Hermione shrugged. "Lupin'll find out soon anyway. Things never stay quiet for long around here."

Hermione turned out to be right. As they left Lupin's classroom at the end of Wednesday's double lesson, Peeves the poltergeist fell through the wall, cackling (as usual) and clutching something in his misty hands. He gave Professor Lupin a very nasty look (Peeves had never forgiven Lupin for making that chewing gum shoot up his nose in Third Year) and dropped what he had been carrying. As it hit the floor, Peeves flew off through the opposite wall. Harry's stomach knotted when he saw what it was that Peeves had dropped. It was Witch Weekly.

Cursing the poltergeist under his breath, Lupin stooped to pick the magazine up. He was about to drop it in the bin when he glanced at the cover and froze.

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. Was now a good time to run? They knew they couldn't sneak away quickly. They looked back at Lupin. His face betrayed no emotion at all. Suddenly, a look crossed his face, so rapidly that none of them could decipher it. Keeping hold of the magazine, he left the room at a fast walk.

"I wouldn't want to be Sirius when he catches up with him," Ron said, echoing Harry and Hermione's thoughts.

---

Sirius was in his room, reading the Daily Prophet and idly considering going down to lunch. Suddenly his calm was interrupted as he heard someone enter through the tapestry. He turned to find Lupin standing there, looking absolutely furious.

"What the hell is this?" Lupin said quietly, his voice trembling with anger as he held out Witch Weekly. Sirius took it, frowning, and read the headline. He flicked to the article, read the first bit and looked up.

"Shit! Look, Remus, I was going to tell you…"

"I don't care that you didn't tell me, it's really more that you did it in the first place!"

"What do you want me to say then?"

"I'd quite happily settle for an assurance that she made it all up, and some proof!"

Sirius said nothing.

"Merlin's balls, Sirius, you mean you DID do it?"

"I, um…"

"Give me a straight answer!"

"Yes, I did."

Lupin's face was taken over momentarily by absolute rage, but that quickly passed, leaving him looking tired and defeated. He sank into a chair. "I can't believe you'd do that to me."

Sirius's own features showed a look of acute pain. "I was plastered, OK? I'd had far too much to drink, I didn't know what I was doing, and I regretted it the minute I was sober enough to think straight! I can't believe I did it either. I'm sorry. You know it's you I love!"

"Bloody funny way of showing it," Lupin said, his voice verging on a laugh.

Sirius looked him in the eye. "I really screwed up, didn't I?"

This time Lupin did laugh. "Yes, I rather think you did." His voice was light, but his eyes were sad. "You really did."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying… this is it. I can't handle this. I-I don't think that I can… be with you any more."

"You mean, break up?"

Lupin nodded, temporarily rendered incapable of speech. He stood up, turned and walked out. He stopped at the tapestry and murmured, 'Goodbye.' Then he was gone.

Sirius stared after him for a moment. Then he noticed the copy of Witch Weekly; Lupin had left it behind. He picked it up, tears starting in his dark eyes, and threw it at the wall. "Damn you, Rosmerta Goodison!" Then he turned and left the room himself, heading for the Great Hall.

---

_Author's Note: I'm really sorry about the slight double-entendre with the word 'straight' in this chapter. It's not intended as a joke, I just couldn't think of a better word. And oops, this is a short chapter. It's all the dialogue, it looks longer than it is. Sorry. Next one should be longer (touch wood) (several times)._

_A/N2: God, in retrospect, I am sooo sorry about the cliché at the end of this. It really sucks. Please review!_


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